


Here, But Full of Light

by InTheLoft



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Connor Lives AU, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Family Bonding, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Panic Attacks, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-11-06 23:15:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 106,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11046366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InTheLoft/pseuds/InTheLoft
Summary: His dad found him.Connor doesn’t remember that part.He doesn’t remember much but that’s okay, it’s nice, actually. A lot of things have happened, there are always people coming in to check on him and they say things at him and he says things back and his mom and dad are there and sometimes Zoe is too.(Or - Connor Murphy didn't die and, for some reason, Evan Hansen is determined to be his friend.)





	1. Winter

**Author's Note:**

> So this was inspired by finding out that in the DC production of DEH, it's implied that Connor commits suicide using pills he took from Evan. This is an AU where Connor takes Evan's letter and his pills but doesn't die; because of its subject matter please be aware that there is frequent mention of suicide and suicidal thoughts; mental illness; panic attacks; self-medication and self-harm.

His dad found him.

Connor doesn’t remember that part.

He doesn’t remember much but that’s okay, it’s nice, actually. A lot of things have happened, there are always people coming in to check on him and they say things at him and he says things back and his mom and dad are there and sometimes Zoe is too.

He remembers the pills and taking the pills and he remembers waking up the second time (there was a first time, apparently, but he doesn’t remember that which is good because he was sick, apparently, and he doesn’t like being sick). Zoe was in the room – she was stood by the door with her arms crossed and she looked right at him as he blinked slowly at her. At that point he was kind of trying to work out why he was alive or maybe whether she was dead too but then his mom realised he was awake and she started crying and then his dad started shouting and at some point Zoe must have left, but Connor doesn’t remember that.

He’s been in hospital for almost a week when the nurse comes in and tells him that there are some people here to see him, if he wants to. He thinks it’s probably the Harrises and no, he definitely does not want to see them.

He’s been in hospital for an actual week – an actual week since he tried and failed to kill himself because he really cannot do _anything_ right – when another nurse comes in and tells him the same thing. This time, his mom’s here and when Connor tries to say no, she says,  
“Oh, honey, it could be _nice_ to see some friendly faces!”

Connor just stares at her. She beams – she looks so tired and her smile is all faded, like the one she was wearing when he was nine and he came to find her after she and Larry had a big fight and he’d asked if they were getting a divorce and she’d given him a hug. Maybe it was worse, this time – the smile.

She looks so hopeful and so sad and Connor feels like he’s standing a great way above her and he has so much power to break her and it’s – too much.

The nurse comes back with Evan Hansen. It’s weird and it gets weirder – his mom gives a little cry of recognition and gets up to give him a hug and Evan stares at Connor over her shoulder. His arm is still in the cast, bulky and Connor’s name is scrawled over it in stupid capital letters, why did he write it in capital letters.  
“Hi,” Evan whispers. Connor stares at him. It’s fucking _weird_.  
“I’ll be right outside Con, okay?” his mom says, and then she leaves.

They’re both silent for a while. Evan shuffles and Connor watches him. Eventually, it gets boring, trying to work out why the fuck he’s here so he just asks.  
“Why the fuck are you here?”  
“I’m sorry,” says Evan. “I’m – sorry, I – um.” He twists at the bottom of his t-shirt with his good hand and – it’s the same – it’s the same t-shirt he was wearing when Connor took his pills off him and tried to kill himself and it’s –

Evan Hansen’s gone all red and he’s screwing his nose up and it takes Connor a moment to realise he’s about to cry.  
“Why does my mom know you?” he asks, because he doesn’t want to deal with that.  
“She – um, she kind of – um, you had my letter? You know, my letter – it was stupid, my therapist wants me to write letters to myself, like, today’s gonna be a good day and you had it? The one I was writing in the computer room? I didn’t know you were there, sorry, I was kind of – I was thinking about my mom when I went in and I get kind of in my head sometimes, it’s weird, so I didn’t notice you. And you took my letter? Um, your mom kinda thought it was a – a suicide note?”

His voice creeps up at the end and he blinks at Connor like a deer in a Disney movie or some crap and Connor just _stares_.

“Why?” he says. “Why would I write you a suicide note?”  
“Um,” says Evan. “She kind of – She kind of thinks we’re friends?”

Connor doesn’t know what to say to that. He doesn’t know what his face does, either, but it does something because Evan leaps back –  
“Yeah, sorry, sorry, I know, right? Like, why would you want to be friends with me, I’m kind of – like, a loser, sorry, but she was really upset and I didn’t know how to say – I think she thought, I mean you didn’t have a note.”  
“You apologise a lot,” says Connor.  
“Sorry,” says Evan, and winces.

Connor thinks it might be funny, except he can’t really find the energy to _care_ and the clock on the wall is ticking closer to four and that’s when Larry finishes work and then he’ll be on the way and Connor kind of wants to be asleep, or at least pretending to be asleep, when he arrives so they won’t have to have another conversation.

“Okay,” he says, and turns his head away. He can hear Evan shuffling there for a bit longer and then the door clicking open and shut and then silence.

And then the door opens again and there’s a girl saying,  
“Hey Connor.”

Connor turns. The only girl he knows is Zoe and that isn’t Zoe’s voice – no, it’s Alana Beck with her hands tight around the straps of her backpack. He had Chemistry with her a few years ago and he thinks they have English or something together as well but they’ve never really spoken beyond, like, _pass the hydrochloric acid and please don’t throw it in my face you fucking freak_. Maybe Alana didn’t say that – she’s aggressively polite – but she was probably thinking it but she’s standing in his hospital room now anyway, which is.

It’s not the weirdest thing that’s happened today.

“I, um,” she says, and this is the first time he’s ever seen Alana Beck lost for words. Her gaze keeps tripping to the wires and the boxes by the bed that whir and the flowers that his grandma sent like he’d just got his tonsils out, maybe that’s what Larry told her to avoid a conversation about the family fuck-up, and there’s _nothing else in the room_. Maybe Alana’s here to report back to their grade about what Connor Murphy looks like in hospital – yeah, _hospital,_ not asylum but it’s only a matter of time, right, ha ha, did you hear he tried to kill himself, about time – but then she swallows and shakes her head a bit. “I brought you the English work.”  
“What?” Connor says, flatly.  
“The English work,” Alana says. “We have English together? We’ve been in the same class since tenth grade?” She raises an eyebrow at him. She seems to have forgotten that he’s lying in a hospital bed because he tried to kill himself. He kind of likes that? “I thought you might want it, because it’s the only class you turn up to.” Now she looks disapproving and Connor kind of wants to laugh again. He gets closer to it this time – he smiles and she looks a little surprised and then she smiles back, uncertain.

She takes off her backpack and pulls a binder out of it and a copy of _Much Ado About Nothing_ which she puts on the bedside table beside the (pathetic) bouquet of flowers.  
“We were supposed to do _Romeo and Juliet_ this term but I pointed out that one of the most famous depictions of suicide in literature probably wasn’t the best thing to be studying, so we’re doing _Much Ado_ instead. It’s better, anyway, I think.”  
“Cool,” says Connor. “I don’t really care?”  
“I guess you’d rather we do _Hamlet,_ huh?” Alana says. “And don’t say you don’t care, you obviously do care, you got 90 on the last paper last year – I got 94 but you shouldn’t feel bad, because my mom’s a college lecturer and a 90 is really good!”

Connor smiles again. He told Larry he got 34. He doesn’t even remember why – they were arguing about something and Connor knew that if Larry got _disappointed_ enough he’d tell Connor to go to his room and then he could escape through the window.

“Okay,” he says. Alana gives a little nod and then she crosses the room and, taking a pen out of her pocket, she writes her number at the top of the first worksheet.  
“I’ll come back,” she says, firmly. “I can bring you the Chemistry stuff if you want that too?”  
“Not really,” says Connor.

She comes back twice that week – once on Tuesday (she brings the Chemistry homework and Connor’s in a shit mood so he rips in half and dumps it on the floor and she doesn’t even blink, just twists her mouth disapproving and tells him he’s being immature and so Connor tells her to fuck off and he doesn’t expect her to come back but she does). On Friday, she drops by with a bouquet of flowers.

“I know they’re yellow but I saw that the ones from your grandma were wilting and these should last for a good few days, and yellow is a good colour, it’s meant to be good for your mood.”  
“Why are you here?” Connor asks.  
“I brought you flowers – ”  
“No, I meant why did you come here in the first place? You can’t fix me. Being nice to me isn’t gonna look good on a college resume.”

For a moment, she looks hurt. Then her expression settles. “Being rude to me isn’t gonna make you feel better.”  
“I dunno, it kind of helps.”  
“Sure,” she says. “Anyway, I’m busy this weekend with some acquaintances from Euro History, we’ve got a project, but I can come again on Monday, so – ”  
“Okay,” says Connor. “Sure, come on Monday, you could have a similar conversation with an empty room. Probably wouldn’t even notice I’m not there, so.”  
“You’re leaving?” she says, surprised. “Are you coming back to school?”  
“No.”  
“ _Never_?”  
“Not if I can help it.”

She sets her face. “I’m gonna come see you on Tuesday,” she says, and storms out of the room. Then Connor goes to sleep and when he wakes up Evan Hansen is in his room.

“Why are you watching me sleep?” he asks, tiredly. Evan jumps. He thrusts out a bouquet of slightly wilted daisies then he remembers that Connor can’t reach him and he shuffles forward, looking terrified and reluctant and, fuck’s sake, why is he here?  
“I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry!”  
“You didn’t mean to watch me sleep?”  
“No – um, your mom said you were probably pretending and I said your name a few times but then you didn’t – um, you didn’t wake up? But your mom said she was gonna get a coffee and I didn’t know if you were supposed to be alone, so I kind of – I stayed, but I was only here for, um, ten minutes maybe? I wasn’t – like, I wasn’t _watching_ you sleep, I was texting my mom?” He looks down at the daisies. “Oh, these are for you, sorry.”  
“Why?”  
“Because – ” Evan says, and he licks his lips and tries to surreptitiously wipe his palms against his thigh. “Um, when I came last time, I don’t know if you remember, it’s fine if you’ve forgotten, you’ve probably got more important things to think about, but I wanted to apologise? And I forgot to, like, say it? Um. I’m really sorry, Connor.” He pushes out a breath, sharp, between his teeth. “I’m so – sorry, I didn’t know. I thought – you asked whether the pills’d get you high so I kinda thought that was what you were gonna use them for but I don’t even know if they’d get you high, they just calm me down and I shouldn’t have given them to you anyway, I’m so – I’m so sorry, and I don’t think you’re a freak? You said I did, but I don’t, um, I don’t know if you remember but when we were in ninth grade there were – um, Brian Harris? Do you know him? He was being, um, he was saying stuff to me about my mom and dad and he made me cry, and you came into the room and told him to go away? I mean, you said it cooler than that, sorry, but they never bothered me again?”

Connor doesn’t remember that. He thinks he was probably high if he thought interacting with Brian Harris at school was a good idea.

Evan shifts. “Um, yeah, so that’s. I came here to say sorry, anyway and, I don’t know if you need anything but I could get it for you?”

For a moment Connor thinks Evan is offering him drugs, and then he remembers that it’s Evan Hansen and he probably means, like, a hug or cookies or something.

“I’m good,” he says. Evan droops.  
“Are you sure? I could get you, um, books or something? Or – ” He stops, squeezing his eyes shut. “No, sorry, you said – sorry.”  
“Actually,” says Connor, for some reason. Evan Hansen blinks at him, hopefully. “I’m leaving tomorrow, so I don’t need anything.”  
“Oh,” says Evan. “Right. Sorry.”  
“Stop apologising.”  
“Sor – ” says Evan. He bites down on it.

* * *

 

Connor goes back to school six weeks after he tried to kill himself.

His mom wanted him to wait it out longer; his dad tried to make him go back the week he got home from hospital. Zoe had put an end to that, leaning across the table at dinner and saying, without looking at Connor,  
“Everyone is still talking about it. If he goes back now, he won’t be able to walk down a corridor without someone asking him why he did it, or how he did it, or why he wanted to.”

So they wait and Connor goes to therapy – lots and lots of therapy, every day, chaperoned by his mom who won’t stop crying. She and Larry have screaming arguments when Dr West suggests – at last – medication. They don’t ask Connor what he wants to do, but his mom wins the argument and he’s on pills now. His parents keep the bottle in their room, along with all the knives from the kitchen, his car keys and all his belts

They let him have his phone back – Larry confiscated it a week and a half ago after an argument about something, Connor not eating his gluten-free pasta bake or something.

Yesterday, after he spent all morning in the Principal’s office with his parents and the school councillor, everyone but his dad looking very sympathetic, Alana texted him:

**From: Alana Beck**

So are you coming back tomorrow?

We could have lunch together if you want?

**To: Alana Beck**

Yeah

**From: Alana Beck**

Is that ‘yeah’ you’re coming back or ‘yeah’ you want lunch?

**To: Alana Beck**

Yeah

**From: Alana Beck**

Okay

 

His mom was delighted when she found out Connor was texting a _girl_! Alana had come over to the house three times in the past few weeks, bringing piles of homework and, one time, a pint of Ben and Jerry’s because apparently getting over a suicide attempt is the same formula as getting over a breakup, who knew!

His mom adores her. Larry hasn’t met her. Zoe likes her – it was Zoe who gave her a lift back from school, all three times. Connor hadn’t realised they were friends but he and Zoe haven’t talked much since it happened or – well, they haven’t talked much in seven years.

Alana doesn’t really _get it_ , but that’s okay because Connor doesn’t either. He thinks maybe, possibly, they could almost be friends, maybe, in the future. Then he catches himself thinking it and it’s stupid but.

She’s waiting for them outside school when Zoe’s car pulls up – they spent the drive in silence – and she gives Zoe a hug and puts her arm through Connor’s to tug him towards the building. She and Zoe talk about the upcoming jazz band concert and whether Zoe or George Thompson will get the solo and it should be Zoe but George Thompson’s a suck-up so Zoe’s money’s on him.

Connor has never heard of George Thompson before.

Zoe walks with them to Connor’s locker – Connor didn’t realise they were headed there until they arrived. She leant against the lockers next to him while Alana sorted through his books.  
“I’ll meet you here after lessons, okay?” she says, staring at his shoulder.  
“Okay,” he says.

Alana walks with him to English and then sits next to him which is nice of her. Everyone stares at him. Then he has Biology with Mrs Lin, who hates him and takes every opportunity to pick on him for questions he definitely won’t know the answer to but she just looks sort of sad and lets him sit in the back row and draw on his notepad without comment. Then he has Algebra with Brian Harris. Brian’s face goes red when Connor comes in and takes his usual seat, back row, left corner. He keeps shooting Connor nervous looks over his shoulder and the empty chair beside him seems to be growing bigger and bigger.

Then Evan Hansen drops down beside him.

He swings his backpack onto the table and rummages in it for his pencil case and his textbook. His hands are shaking.  
“Hi?” Connor says.  
“Hi,” Evan squeaks. He manages to look surprised that Connor’s sat there, like it wasn’t a pretty momentous decision for him to make, sitting there, like he did it by accident even though he’s always sat on the other side of the classroom, two rows ahead of Connor, twisting his t-shirt into a ball and sweating over the questions. “Have you done the homework?” he asks. The words come out on top of each other.  
“No,” says Connor. “I’ve been a bit busy, trying to die.”

Evan swallows. “Right,” he says. “You – um, you didn’t?”  
“What?”  
“You didn’t try again?” Evan whispers.  
“No,” says Connor. “It was a joke.”  
“Oh,” says Evan. He forces a laugh. “Sorry.”

He meets Zoe at his locker after school and they drive home in silence. His mom asks how school was. Larry frowns at him over dinner. He goes to bed and his mom stays up to check on him, every hour, like she has for the past six weeks.

Maybe she sleeps in the day. 

* * *

 

 On Friday, Connor sits through another English class with Alana and a Chemistry class where his lab partner is very careful to not let him touch any of the acid they’re working with – like, what’s he gonna do? Drink it? He eats lunch on the bleachers because he doesn’t want to be in the cafeteria and then he realises that he really, really does not want to sit through History with Brian Harris so he goes and gets high in the bathroom and then he wants to leave.

He’s slipping out of the door when Evan Hansen almost walks into him.  
“Hi Connor,” he says. “Are you going to History?”  
“No,” says Connor, and tries to sidestep him but Evan accidentally blocks him and Connor is – too spacey to work that out.  
“Why not?”  
“I don’t want to.”  
“Why not?”  
“You ask a lot of questions.”  
“Where are you going to go?” Evan says, anxiously.  
“I’m not gonna go hang myself from a tree, Hansen, you’re fine.”  
“Oh,” says Evan. “No – I didn’t mean. I mean.”  
“You can come with me,” says Connor. “If you want.”

He slides past him and then there are footsteps on the linoleum behind him and Evan Hansen’s caught up. He’s tugging at the straps of his backpack.  
“You weren’t at lunch today,” says Evan.  
“No,” says Connor. “I’m not really hungry.”  
“How do we get out?” Evan says. “Won’t they stop us?”

Connor rolls his eyes. “No, Hansen, they don’t actually give a shit.”

Six weeks ago, right before Connor tried to kill himself, he tried to make Evan Hansen like him.

They can’t go far because Connor doesn’t have his car and Evan doesn’t drive. They walk to the mom and pop shop a block away and Connor buys more cigarettes and a lighter – they took that away too – and he’s smoked one before Evan says something.  
“Did it hurt?”  
“What?” says Connor, tiredly. Evan is the fourteenth person to have asked him this. “Not really, no.”  
“When’d you get it done?”  
“What?” says Connor.  
“Your – ” Evan says, and he makes a weird motion at his ear.

It takes Connor a moment to realise. “Oh. I thought – ”  
“What?”  
“I thought you meant – with the pills.”  
“ _No_!” Evan says, loudly. “No, I meant the piercings.”

Connor doesn’t know why he smiles at that but he does and he lights another cigarette and offers Evan one – Evan says no, which isn’t surprising. “I did them when I was fourteen, I think? Just to piss my dad off. And then I did these ones last year. They hurt more, but it’s not really painful. Why? You want to get piercings, Hansen?”  
“I don’t think so,” Evan says, carefully. “But it looks cool on you.”

Connor smiles again and this time when he blows out the smoke he turns his head so it doesn’t get in Evan’s face.

“Why would getting your ears pierced annoy your dad?” Evan asks, after a while.  
“Because he’s a dick,” Connor says. “He thinks men should look like men, or whatever.”  
“You look like a man,” Evan says. Connor drops his cigarette on the ground when he’s done with it.  
“Whatever,” he says. “He thinks piercings and shit are for girls. I dunno, he grew up in the 70s.”  
“You shouldn’t do that,” Evan says, going red.  
“What?”  
“Drop your cigarettes – sorry, I mean, it’s bad for the environment.”

He’s passed red, gone straight through to purple.  
“I’m not gonna pick it up,” says Connor. Evan’s hands twitch.  
“Sorry,” he says.

They walk in silence for a while. Connor hasn’t been out of the house without his mom in six weeks.  
“You know a lot about the environment,” he says, after a while. Evan is staring at something across the road; when Connor starts talking, he jumps. He’s pretty jumpy.  
“Oh, no,” he says. “Not that much. Um, I worked as a ranger – a junior ranger, I mean – at Ellison this summer? So, I mean, I like trees and I like the environment, sorry, that was weird, I don’t just like trees?”  
“Okay,” says Connor. “That’s cool.”

Evan gives a laugh, startled. “No it’s not,” he says.  
“No,” Connor agrees. “It’s pretty lame, but it’s cool that you have interests, or whatever.”

Evan goes slightly pink.

They walk back to school and slip in with the crowds pouring out through the gates. They part like the fucking Red Sea for Connor. People whisper. Evan sinks down into himself but he stays by Connor’s side until they’ve shoved – well, Connor shoved, Evan whispered _excuse me, sorry_ and followed him – their way inside. He follows Connor to his locker and stands there, awkwardly, as Connor tries to open it. He got angry at Brian Harris last year and slammed it shut and the lock’s temperamental now.  
“Um,” says Evan. “Do you have Facebook?”  
“No,” says Connor. “I get death threats in person, why would I need social media?”  
“D-Do you really get death threats?”  
“Not anymore,” says Connor. His locker springs open. “I guess death threatening yourself takes the fun out of it for everyone else.”

He pulls everything out of his locker and tries to cram it all in his bag. Alana offered to help him with his homework this weekend.

“Why?” he says, when Evan makes a little sound and subsides into silence.  
“I just – Um, I couldn’t find you on there, and I was wondering.”  
“Why the fuck were you looking?” Connor says, bewildered. Maybe he sounds more aggressive than he intended – Evan’s mouth moves soundlessly for a moment.  
“Um, I don’t know, I’m sorry.”  
“Connor!”

Zoe is storming across the corridor. Connor sighs. He slams his locker shut – it bounces open again. Evan tries to hide in the corner.  
“You _skipped_!”  
“What?” says Connor.  
“You skipped! You’re so fucking lucky Dana Miller saw you leaving with Evan – ”  
“What?”  
“You don’t turn up to a lesson, people think you’ve gone to kill yourself, you fucking _idiot_.” She’s bright red, she could give Evan a run for his money, and then she punches him – hard – in the arm. “And you fucking _reek_ of weed – I’m gonna tell mom.”  
“Do whatever the fuck you want,” he spits. “What’s she gonna do? Lock me in my room – oh, wait, they took away my fucking door.”  
“Because you _locked it_!” she says.

This isn’t a conversation they should be having – screaming – at each other in the middle of school. People have stopped to watch. Zoe realises it at the same time. She tucks her hair behind her ear and turns to Evan.  
“Hey,” she says. “Evan. Do you need a ride home?”  
“Oh no,” Evan says. “No – I can – I’m not far, I can walk?”  
“Come with us,” says Zoe. “I don’t want to be alone with _him_.”

She storms off and Connor slams his locker shut again – it stays, this time – and glares at the people who are still lingering around them until they leave.  
“You don’t have to come with us,” he says. He’s imagining Larry’s face when Zoe tells them.  
“I won’t, if you don’t want me to.”  
“Oh, for fuck’s sake Hansen, I don’t _fucking care_.” 

* * *

 

The weekend is shit. The meds aren’t working – Connor can’t sleep and his appetite’s gone completely. His mom cries in the bathroom after Zoe tells her he skipped, then she pretends everything’s fine and she and Larry talk about sending Connor to a different school. Connor pushes peas around his plate and tries to pretend that the idea of a new school, a new group of people who will whisper and say things and stare at him when he enters a room like they’re wondering where he’s hiding the gun, doesn’t make him feel ill.

Alana comes round on Saturday. They do homework on the kitchen table with a plate of his mom’s raisin cookies. Alana eats three; Connor breaks one into tiny pieces. They go through English, Algebra, Biology.  
“Why don’t you do art?” Alana says, when he passes her his Biology paper to look over.  
“Because I don’t want to.”  
“But you’re good at it.”

He sinks down in his seat and she doesn’t push it for once, just says, “You’ve got this wrong.”  
“Yeah, I missed the lesson.”  
“Look, it’s not that hard.”

His mom tries to talk to him about Alana after she’s left. He thinks she thinks he’s interested in her, which – well. He might as well continue to be a disappointment, he’s been doing such a good job of it so far. On Sunday they go back to Dr West and she looks disappointed as well.

He’ll get new meds. He still can’t sleep.

At half one on Monday morning, his mom puts her head around the door.  
“Hey,” she says. “You awake?”

It’s pretty obvious he’s awake – he’s looking at her. She comes in and sits on the bed beside him. She pushes his hair off his face. She always looks so sad now.  
“Maybe we should get this cut,” she says.  
“No,” says Connor.  
“It’ll get hot, in the summer.”  
“Maybe I’ll cut it in the summer.”  
“Okay, Con.”

She doesn’t know what to say to him. They all treat him like a bomb about to go off.

“Maybe you could join a club or something?” she says. “Be a part of something?”

He told her it wasn’t his suicide note. For some reason – probably because he kept it in his pocket when he tried to die –it’s still important to her. He saw her crying over it last Wednesday, when he got back from school.

“Maybe,” he says.  
“Maybe we could have Alana and Evan over for dinner?” she says. “I could make lasagne? You like lasagne!”  
“I don’t like gluten-free lasagne,” he says. “It’s disgusting.”

She sighs. “It’s good for you, Con.”

He rolls his eyes and turns over, bunching the blanket up by his chin. She stays there for a little while, combing her fingers through his hair and he doesn’t remember her leaving. He fell asleep. 

* * *

 

On Monday, Alana and Evan and Evan’s dickbag friend sit with him at lunch. Well, Alana cornered him after French and dragged him to the cafeteria and then sat them down at the table where Evan and Evan’s dickbag friend were already sat.  
“Hi Evan, hi Jared,” Alana says.  
“Hi Connor,” says Evan. “Hi Alana.”

Evan’s dickbag friend – Jared, then – is staring at Connor, eyes big. Connor wonders if he remembers saying _school shooter chic._  
“Eat,” Alana says, picking up her knife and fork. Connor looks doubtfully at his plate. It’s probably better than gluten-free lasagne but he’s not hungry.  
“Do you want my yogurt?” Evan asks. Jared’s eyes get bigger. “Um – when I’m not hungry, I can usually stomach yogurt?”

He passes it over before Connor can answer.

“Thanks,” Connor mutters. He’s seen Zoe enter the cafeteria. They make eye contact – she looks a little surprised and she doesn’t smile or anything, just goes to join the queue. Connor bounces his leg under the table until Jared says,  
“God, Evan, stop, that’s so annoying.”

Evan says, “Sorry, I’m – I’m not doing anything?”

Connor stops. Jared says,  
“ _Sure, okay_ ,” and laughs. Connor scowls at him but he doesn’t notice. Zoe does, as she drops into the seat between Evan and Alana.  
“Hey, looking like you’re working out which organ to rip out first is a great way of making friends,” she says.  
“Fuck you.”  
“Hey,” she says, to Evan and Alana. And then, “I’m Zoe Murphy, hey.”  
“Jared Kleinman,” says Jared. “I don’t usually sit here.”  
“Okay?” she says.

Evan goes red. Usually, Evan eats on his own. Connor knows because once he went into the bathroom at lunch to buy weed off of Sam Taylor and Evan came in with a sandwich and then hid in a cubicle. Connor kicks Jared Kleinman underneath the table – hard. Jared yelps.

Smiling down at the yogurt, Connor picks up his spoon. When he looks up, Evan is watching him. He smiles, a little nervously. Connor shrugs at him.  
“So, actually, I was thinking,” Alana says. “Maybe it would be good if we could create some kind of support group?”

She says it very fast, at her tray.

“Support group for what?” Jared says.  
“For people,” Alana says. “Who are struggling, for whatever reason. Depression. Anxiety.”  
“Fuck off,” Connor snaps. Zoe snarls,  
“ _Connor_!”  
“No, I told you, I’m not gonna sit here and be your fucking pet project.”  
“You’re not!” Alana says.  
“Sit down,” Zoe hisses. “What is your problem!”  
“Do you want the list, _Zo?_ ”  
“People are looking,” Evan whispers, into his hand.

Connor kicks his chair back and walks out.

Evan sits next to him in Algebra anyway. 

* * *

On Tuesday, Alana drags him back to the cafeteria. She’d texted him last night to apologise. Zoe had scoffed and said she really didn’t need to, it was all Connor’s fault anyway. They sit at a table with Evan and Jared. Zoe sits with her friends from band on the other side of the room. Jared tells them all about a video game he’s just beaten – first one of his gaming friends to do so.

“You have friends?” Connor asks. Jared makes a face at him.  
“Yeah, more friends than you.”  
“Oh,” Connor says. “Yeah, because that’s so hard.”

When he and Evan are walking to History, he asks,  
“Why do you hang out with that guy? He’s a dick.”  
“He’s not,” Evan says, loyally. “He can be a bit mean sometimes but he’s nice really.” He scratches his wrist where the cast ends. Connor really wishes he hadn’t written his name so fucking big. “His mom pays for his car insurance, and she’s good friends with my mom, so. I dunno.”  
“So – his mom pays him to be nice to you?” Connor says. Evan’s mouth twists.  
“Yeah, I guess.”  
“That’s really fucking sad, oh my God.”

He doesn’t mean to laugh but he does and he expects Evan to do something awful like _cry_ except Evan laughs too.  
“I know,” he says. “Oh my God.”

After History, Connor turns to him and says,  
“Hey, give me your number.”  
“Okay,” says Evan. He sounds kind of eager and he blushes, fumbling for his phone. He reels it off to Connor and then spells out his name – “Evan H-a-n-s-e-n, ‘cos loads of people spell it with an ‘o’, but it’s e, um, sorry, you probably don’t care.”  
“Whatever,” says Connor. “People spell my name with an ‘e’, instead of an ‘o’,” he adds, trying to be nice. “C-o-n-n-e-r.”

Evan smiles. He’s got a nice smile – it makes him look less like a frightened woodland animal in a Disney film. 

* * *

 

He eats lunch – well, Evan’s yogurt – with the three of them every other day that week. Zoe doesn’t join them again but she always waits for Connor by his locker to take him home. Usually, it’s in silence. She puts the radio on loud and Connor looks out the window.

On Friday, she drives out of the car park with Katy Perry singing on the stereo and then drives down the block and pulls over.  
“I want to ask you something,” she says. She turns the radio off. Connor stares very hard at the mom and pop shop outside. They overcharged him on cigarettes. “We’re not. You’re not.”  
“What?” says Connor.

She pushes a hand through her hair. She looks like their mom when she does that. She’d probably hit him if he told her. “You haven’t spoken to me in years? I mean, at all. You told me you were gonna kill me? Like, two weeks before you did it. You hate me.”

The first few times Connor smoked weed he got really bad cottonmouth, all thick and fuzzy and it was hard to talk round it. That’s how he feels now.

“I don’t,” he says. She scoffs.  
“You did a good job of pretending like it.”  
“I know,” he says. He has to try. “I’m sorry.”

She rolls her eyes. “Sure. No, you know what? You don’t get to say _I’m sorry_ and expect me to forgive you? I don’t fucking forgive you.”  
“Okay,” says Connor. She starts the engine, turns it off again.  
“You made my life _hell_.”

He doesn’t say anything.

“For years? But you’re _sorry_? No you’re not, I don’t believe you. If you were sorry you wouldn’t have fucking done it.”  
“That’s probably true,” he says.  
“You make mom and dad miserable. You don’t try. You’re fucking horrible to people at school.”

True, true, true.

“I don’t. I don’t understand, Connor?”  
“There isn’t a fucking explanation. I fuck things up, that’s what I do.”  
“Oh don’t be so self-pitying.”  
“I don’t know,” he says.  
“You don’t know or you don’t want to talk about it?”

He folds his arms across his chest and looks out the window. She makes a sound, frustrated.

“Do you remember when we used to go to the orchard?” she says. “And we’d try to find four leaf clovers? And if you found one and I didn’t you’d give it to me because you said you wanted me to have luck.”  
“I probably just wanted mom to get me ice cream,” Connor says.

In the mirror, he sees her mouth twitch, amused despite herself.

“I don’t understand,” she says, after a while. “Why you couldn’t just tell me if you needed me to do something. I’d have done it.”  
“You shouldn’t have,” he says, watching a pigeon try to pull up some gum from the sidewalk. He can feel her eyes on him but she doesn’t say anything else, just starts the engine and drives them home. 

* * *

 

He thinks the new medication Dr West has him on works better – it’s just weird, having something _better_ to compare everything to.

He starts sleeping. His mom comments on it in the middle of the week –  
“Every time I’ve been in to check you’ve been asleep, Con, I think these are the ones, yeah?”  
“Can I have my door back then?”  
“No,” says Larry, buttering toast.  
“We’ll talk at Thanksgiving,” Cynthia says.

Connor starts scowling and Larry starts frowning but then Connor’s phone vibrates in his jeans and he doesn’t really want to make his mom cry, _again_ , so he slides it out – Larry says,  
“No phones at the table.”  
“Yeah,” says Connor, not listening.

**From: Evan Hansen**

Do you maybe want to do something this weekend?

If you’re free

If you’re busy it’s fine don’t worry about it sorry

Or if you don’t want to

**To: Evan Hansen**

I’m grounded

**From: Evan Hansen**

Why?

**To: Evan Hansen**

Take a wild guess??????

**From: Evan Hansen**

Oh right

 

“ _No phones at the table,_ ” Larry says. He probably has some kind of power complex.  
“Larry, it’s fine, no one’s eating!”  
“No Cynthia, it’s not fine, while they’re under my roof they will obey my rules.”  
“ _Your roof_?”  
“It’s my money, Cynthia.”

Connor catches Zoe’s eye, accidentally. She makes a face. He smiles. Then Larry shouts –

“You let him get away with murder!”

And then it’s very quiet and they’re all staring at him, horrified, for a moment.  
“So it’s my fault?” Cynthia asks, quietly.  
“I didn’t mean that,” Larry says, closing his eyes. “But you coddle him. He’s not a kid anymore.”  
“He’s also right there,” Zoe snarls. “Come on, we’re going to be late for school.”

She picks up an apple from the bowl and shoves it at him as she passes because his mouth has gone numb and he hasn’t touched his cereal. 

* * *

 

**From: Alana Beck**

Okay I don’t want you to freak out this time

**To: Alana Beck**

I??? Do not freak out??

**From: Alana Beck**

Yes??? You do???

I think the support group is a good idea

Connor types out a reply, presses delete, types out another one, clicks his phone off.

 

**From: Alana Beck**

I’m not talking about you okay?

I have anxiety

High-functioning

The fact that you clearly struggle with mental illness is not the reason I want to do this. I’ve wanted to do it for a while but I’ve never had anyone who would help me.

**To: Alana Beck**

Why would you think I would help you?

When have I ever done anything to give people the impression I want to help them?

**From: Alana Beck**

You talk a big game Murphy

**To: Alana Beck**

If I am involved in this people will not turn up

**From: Alana Beck**

Do you have Facebook?

**To: Alana Beck**

No???????? Why do you people think I do????

**From: Alana Beck**

Okay ask Zoe to show you the page it’s called the Connor Project

**To: Alana Beck**

I’m sorry the what

Alana

Alana

The what

The fucking what?

 

 

“Oh my God, calm down,” Zoe says, when he bangs into her room and shoves his phone at her. “Yeah I’ll get it up, it’s not a big thing, jeez.” She glances up at him, eyebrows raised. “Sit down? Stop looming?”  
“I’m not,” he says, sitting down on her bed. “Looming.”  
“Not anymore,” she says. She rolls over in her desk chair, laptop balanced on her knees. “Here.”

The Connor Project.

He feels slightly ill.

“What the fuck?” he says. “Why the fuck didn’t anybody fucking tell me?”  
“I assumed Alana would have done,” Zoe shrugs. “It was her thing, so.”  
“Her thing,” Connor says. His neck feels hot. “Right.”  
“She’ll delete the page if you want her to,” Zoe says, watching him. “It’s not a big deal. Look – I think people got their wires crossed after it happened. I wasn’t there, obviously, but people thought you’d actually – You know? They didn’t realise, and Alana set it up for people to talk. Nobody said anything bad – just, like,” she scrolls down the page. “Really sorry, blah blah, wish I’d had an opportunity to know him better, that kind of thing?”  
“But I’m not dead?” Connor says.  
“Obviously not.”  
“But nothing’s. I mean. They have the opportunity?”  
“You’re not exactly approachable,” Zoe says.  
“I want her to delete the page,” he says. “She can do that right?”  
“Yeah,” Zoe says. “Are you – ?”  
“Fine, yes,” he says, and gets up and leaves.

Storming out is less cathartic when he doesn’t have a door to slam and he can’t get high because his dad will smell it and he cannot deal with that argument today; he just crawls into bed with his hoodie and jeans on and texts Alana.

**To: Alana Beck**

Delete that

**To: Evan Hansen**

Tell me something cool about trees

**From: Alana Beck**

Okay

I’m sorry

**From: Evan Hansen**

There are probably more than 53000 species of tree!

We don’t even know how many there are!

That’s not cool sorry hang on I can think of a better one

**From: Alana Beck**

It’s gone

**From: Evan Hansen**

This is cool I think??

The oldest tree in the world is 9500-year-old Norwegian Spruce in Sweden!

[attached: photo_oldest_tree]

**To: Evan Hansen**

Cool

How do they know how old it is?

**From: Evan Hansen**

Haha

You can use an increment borer to count the tree's rings, or multiply the tree's diameter and the growth factor to estimate the age!!

**To: Evan Hansen**

So do you Google tree facts in your spare time

**From: Evan Hansen**

Sometimes

Sometimes I Google bird facts

 

Connor laughs and then burrows down in his blanket so no one will hear.

**To: Evan Hansen**

Wow

**From: Evan Hansen**

:)

**To: Evan Hansen**

Do you want to come round?

**From: Evan Hansen**

To your house?

Now?

Or when I mean sorry?

**To: Evan Hansen**

Now

Tomorrow

Whenever

**From: Evan Hansen**

I can come now if that’s okay if you’re busy or something it’s fine?

**To: Evan Hansen**

I literally invited you

He sends Evan his address and Evan says he’ll be there in a bit and then Connor rolls over and falls asleep because he’s been accumulating sleep debt since he was thirteen.

His mom wakes him up.  
“Con, Evan’s here. You shouldn’t sleep in your clothes. Is he staying for dinner?”  
“I don’t know,” Connor says, twisting out of his blanket. “Ask him?”  
“Okay, I was just –” she says, holding her hands up. “You didn’t say he was coming round, so I didn’t know.”  
“Yeah he just. I mean I just invited him so. ‘Cos no one’s ever wanted to spend time with me so I don’t know what the etiquette is.”

It’s worth it for the expression of hurt that flitters across her face. Then he feels _awful, awful, what a fucking terrible person_. She squeezes his arm, pushes his hair out of his face.  
“You can have him round whenever you like, hon,” she says.

Evan is stood in the hall, shuffling awkwardly. Connor stands at the top of the stairs and says,  
“Come up, take your shoes off, whatever.”

Evan goes red and trips over his laces and then goes redder and he tries to toe his shoes into a neat line against the skirting board. He comes awkwardly up the stairs.  
“I don’t have a door,” Connor says. “So.”  
“Uh – that’s okay, we don’t – need one,” Evan says. He cringes.

He sits at Connor’s desk and Connor sits cross-legged on his bed and watches Evan tug anxiously at his cast.  
“When’s that come off?”  
“Tomorrow, actually,” Evan says, nodding. “Um, yeah.”  
“Cool,” says Connor. He can’t wait until he doesn’t have to see his own fucking name written big and messy over Evan’s arm. It was fucking weird, signing it.  
“I kinda want to wash it,” Evan says. “My arm, I mean. Um, sorry – that was. Um, I don’t know if you’ve ever broken your arm? You can’t wash it, you have to keep it wrapped in plastic, it feels weird.”  
“Right.”  
“Um. Have you ever broken your arm?”  
“No,” Connor says. “I broke two fingers once. Zoe broke her arm when she was nine.”  
“How did you break two fingers?”  
“I punched someone,” Connor says. “I didn’t know how to do it.”  
“Oh,” says Evan. He starts walking the chair round, swinging back. “Who did you punch?”  
“Brian Harris,” says Connor.  
“In our grade?”  
“Yep.”  
“Why’d you punch him?”  
“I dunno,” says Connor. “I was high, probably.”

Actually, Brian Harris had been saying things about Zoe. Connor had been high, but mostly it was Zoe. He thought she’d be mad if she knew so he told his mom he’d punched a wall and Larry had rolled his eyes and grounded him.

“Oh,” says Evan. “I’ve never been high.”  
“That’s not surprising,” Connor tells him.  
“What’s it like?”  
“Fine.”  
“My mom says it makes you paranoid.”  
“It can, yeah.”  
“Does it make you paranoid?”  
“No,” Connor says. He considers it. “Maybe a little. Not very much. It’s kind of – calming? Usually it made me feel less like I wanted to die.”

Evan flushes and looks down at his knees.

“Hey,” says Connor. “Did you see the Facebook page Alana set up?”  
“The Connor Project?” Evan says. “Yeah, I saw it.”  
“Did a lot of people?”  
“I don’t really know a lot of people,” Evan says. His voice trails off. “Sorry.”

Connor leans back against his headboard.

“It was nice though, right?” Evan says. “I mean, having people say those things?”  
“Not really,” says Connor. “They all hate me? It’s fucking hypocritical. I don’t really want them talking about me like that.”  
“You don’t – ” says Evan, then he shuts himself up, scratching at his elbow above the cast.  
“I don’t what?”  
“Nothing.”  
“I don’t what?”  
“You don’t – I mean, it’s not a bad thing but you don’t like you don’t try to blend in at school?”  
“Like you do,” Connor says. Evan goes red. “I realised that it didn’t really matter if I was wearing polo shirts or not, Hansen, they were gonna call me a psycho anyway. School shooter, right? Addict. Loner, loser, bully, crazy, whatever.”  
“You don’t care?”  
“No,” says Connor.

Evan stares at him. “I wish I could do that.”  
“Weed,” Connor says. “Fucking lifechanging.”

There’s a beat where Evan’s clearly trying to work out if he’s joking or not. He must decide Connor is joking because he laughs.

Cynthia puts her head around the doorframe to ask Evan if he’s staying for dinner. Evan stumbles over his refusal. When she’s gone, Connor asks,  
“What do you think about Alana’s stupid support group?”

Evan chews his lip. “I don’t think it’s stupid,” he says.  
“You don’t?”  
“No,” Evan says. “Like, if it’d help people? I think it could be a good thing.”  
“I think Alana wants me to run it with her or something,” Connor says. Evan bobs his head.  
“That’d be cool.”  
“No it wouldn’t,” Connor says.  
“Don’t you ever wanna be,” Evan begins and then he stops, itches his cheek. “I dunno, like, a part of something?”  
“I am a part of something,” Connor tells him. “The food chain.”

Evan laughs again, ducking his head.  
“Yeah, it’s stupid,” he says, in a rush.  
“It’s not stupid,” Connor says. “If you wanna do it, I’ll tell Alana – ”  
“No,” Evan says. “I don’t think I’d be any good at it.”  
“Why not?”  
“Because I’m,” Evan gestures at himself, all-encompassing.  
“So?”  
“I can’t really talk to people?” Evan says. He pushes round on the chair. “You’ve noticed.”  
“I think you do fine,” Connor says. “You don’t punch people ‘cos you’re high.”  
“I don’t think you did that,” Evan says. He blinks up at Connor. “Sorry.”  
“Whatever.”

 

**To: Alana Beck**

What would this support group be then?

You’re not calling it the connor project

I’m only doing it if Evan Hansen does too

* * *

 

**[Alana Beck added Connor_Murphy, Evan_Hansen, TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman, JazzBandJazZoe to the group chat: Support Group Name Pending]**

**From: TheInsanelyJaredKleinman**

Oh my god

Delete this

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

??

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

U literally started a chat with the Most Unpopular people at school??

**From: Connor_Murphy**

You’re on it????

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Lolllll

Also – fucking rude?

**From: Evan_Hansen**

What is this?

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Kleinman what the fuck is wrong with your username?

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Just letting ppl know who I am

**From: Alana.Beck**

I thought it’d be easier to talk about the support group plan via messenger

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

De.lete.Me.From.This.Chat.

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Please do?

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Don’t be rude to Alana

Good idea Alana!

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Gay idea Alana!

**From: Evan_Hansen**

You’re gay Jared?

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

#exposed

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Wtf Hansen? What if I wasn’t ready to come out to these ppl??

**From: Evan_Hansen**

I’m so sorry I didn’t think

I’m so sorry

It’s just you told Ms Bee so I thought it was an everyone thing now??

**From: Alana.Beck**

Everyone knows Jared’s gay Evan he’s just being a dick

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

;)

I’m the sexual awakening the Gays at this school deserve

**From: Connor_Murphy**

I hate you?????

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Did I Awaken you 2 Murphy?

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Lol no that was Hugh Jackman you’re 6 years too late

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

WAIT

WHAT?????? WHAT????? WHAT?????

W H A T?????

**From: Alana.Beck**

Can we please talk about the support group?

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

MURPHY YOU’RE GAY WHAT THE F U CK?????

**From: Evan_Hansen**

Why does it matter Jared?

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

BECAUSE ALL THE DICK SUCKING JOKES I’VE BEEN MAKING FOR THE PAST 3 WEEKS HAVE BEEN!!!! REAL!!!! I AM A GOD???

**Alana.Beck removed TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman from the chat**

**From: Evan_Hansen**

I’m so sorry Connor!!!!!!!!

He can be really horrible sometimes but he doesn’t mean it I swear!!!

**From: Connor_Murphy**

It’s fine Hansen idc

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

It’s fine evan he’s laughing i can hear him from his room

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Fuck off

I was laughing at Alana removing him from the chat I screenshotted it it’s my screensaver now

**From: Alana.Beck**

Can we talk about the support group now please?

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Yeah!!

I think it’s a really good idea Alana!

What do we need to do to set it up?

**From: Alana.Beck**

We need a teacher supervisor

I’ve got a few ideas but I want everyone to be comfortable so what do you guys think of Mrs Lin, Mr Cowell, Miss Grey or Ms Bee?

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Not Lin she hates me

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

That’s because you decapitated a mouse in her class freshman year and traumatised everybody

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Yes?

She still hates me so she wouldn’t do it

**From: Evan_Hansen**

I like Ms Bee

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Same!

**From: Connor_Murphy**

idk she’s never taught me

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

She’s perfect then she won’t be scared off

**From: Alana.Beck**

Okay! We can go ask her tomorrow?

I’ll be president I have the most experience but obviously it’s a democratic vote so if you guys agree say ay

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Ay ay captain!

**From: Connor_Murphy**

idc whatever

**From: Evan_Hansen**

Ay!

Shouldn’t we add Jared back though? So it’s a full vote?

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Hansen

>:I

**From: Evan_Hansen**

Sorry

**Alana.Beck added TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman to the chat**

**From: Alana.Beck**

Scroll up

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Ay

What are the rest of us doing?

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

I thought you thought it was a bad idea

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

It is

That’s why you need me

To make it less shitty

**From: Alana.Beck**

We need vice President, secretary and treasurer!

Obviously those roles aren’t necessarily important but the titles look good on college applications!

We probably won’t be handling money

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Oh good I’ll do that then

**From: Alana.Beck**

Guys? What do you want to do?

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Nothing?

**From: Evan_Hansen**

I don’t think id be very good at any of those things Alana I’m really sorry

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Don’t worry Evan!

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

I can be both VP and secretary

**From: Connor_Murphy**

No.

**From: Alana.Beck**

Okay then Connor you be VP

**From: Connor_Murphy**

No.

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Can you try and not be a dick??

* * *

 

Zoe explains to their parents over breakfast that they’ll be late back because they’re going to see Ms. Bee about starting a support group.

Cynthia claps her hands to her chest. Her eyes fill with tears. Larry makes a sound at the back of his throat.  
“A support group?” he says.  
“Yeah, for people at our school going through a hard time,” Zoe says. Her voice is hard and firm.  
“Right,” says Larry. He goes back to the paper.

Connor imagines picking up his cereal bowl and hurling it at his dad’s head or the wall behind it, imagines it shattering and his hands close tight so his nails bite into his palms and it hurts.

Cynthia is gushing over what a good idea this is and how glad she is that they’re both involved in something _together,_ they used to be so close –

Zoe cuts it short,  
“Yeah, okay, we’re gonna go now. I wanna practice before school, so. Come on Connor.”

In the car, she puts her keys in the ignition and then pulls out her phone to reply to a text. She’s kind of smiling down at the screen. Connor clears his throat.  
“Do you, like. Do you have a thing for Alana?”

It takes her a moment to look up, tucking her hair behind her ear. “What?”  
“Alana. Do you like Alana?”

She frowns, like she’s trying to assess him. “Do you like Evan Hansen?” she asks. Connor gives a little laugh, startled.  
“ _What_?”  
“Okay then,” she says, putting her phone in the ashtray. It’s empty because she won’t let Connor smoke in her car but it still feels a little passive aggressive.  
“Do you like her then?”  
“Yeah,” Zoe says, like a challenge. “Don’t tell her, okay?”  
“Okay.”

She backs out of their drive, jamming the radio on. Their house is out of sight when Connor asks,  
“Why the fuck do you think I like Evan Hansen?”  
“I don’t know,” Zoe says. “You just seem to.” She frowns at him. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, anyway.”  
“Okay wow.”  
“What, you think I’m wrong? He’s clearly incredibly vulnerable and you’re.”  
“Yeah.”

It makes him kind of angry, the itchy, buzzing kind of anger that settles quite easily beneath his skin and he doesn’t want to shout at Zoe anymore so he bites on his tongue until his mouth tastes like copper.

The last class of the day is English so he and Alana wait outside the classroom for the others to come to them. They finished _Much Ado About Nothing_ and Alana’s clearly excited, bouncing on the balls of her feet with her hands wrapped around her backpack straps. Connor is – not? He thought his meds were working but he feels like he did all the time a few months ago, irrationally and inescapably angry and he keeps thinking about Larry saying _Right_ and snapping the newspaper open so he didn’t have to see Connor’s face and the anger starts hot in the centre of his chest and spreads outwards.  
“I’m going to the toilet,” he tells Alana. He doesn’t know what his face is doing but she steps back, says,  
“Connor, are you – ?”

He’s already halfway down the corridor. The school’s almost emptied out – there are a few guys huddled around a locker by the nearest bathroom. One of them is Brian Harris so Connor speeds up – that’s a conversation he does not want to have but then someone says,  
“Hey, Murphy – ”

He shoulders the door open and slams the door of the nearest cubicle so hard the whole thing rattles. He kicks the toilet seat lid down and drops onto it, elbows on his knees, hands in his hair, pulling tight. In for seven, out for fourteen. In for seven, six, five – Out for – In – Out –

“Hey, Murphy? You okay in there?”

In, out. In, out.

“Hey, Connor? Fuck.”  
“I’m not trying to fucking kill myself Brian!” Connor yells.  
“Oh. Good. Um. You okay, dude?”  
“Yeah I’m _peachy,_ go and look at your fucking Playboy, your goons are waiting.”  
“You don’t really sound okay, and your mom said – ”  
“ _Harris fuck off!”  
_ “Connor?”

The door to the bathroom shuts. There’s a moment of silence, then Brian says,  
“Sorry, who are you?”  
“Um, Evan? Evan Hansen, sorry? We’re in homeroom together?”  
“Oh,” says Brian. “Yeah. You know Connor then?”

Connor rolls his eyes so hard he sees spots. He bangs the cubicle door open, reaches out and pulls Evan in with him, shuts it in Brian’s face.

“Go away, Brian,” he says.  
“Jeez, sorry, I didn’t realise it was _that_ ,” says Brian.

Connor sits back down on the toilet seat lid. In for seven, out for fourteen. Was it in for fourteen and out for seven?

Then Evan’s crouched down beside him. Very tentatively, he takes hold of one of Connor’s hands.  
“In with me,” he says. His voice is quiet and firm and when Connor meets his eyes he’s all detached, no-nonsense business. No pity at all. “And out. In. And out. In. And out.”

It takes an embarrassingly long time for Connor to regain control of his breathing. Evan stays there, crouched beside him even when he’s breathing normally again. He doesn’t let go of his hand either, doesn’t do anything weird, just holds his hand and it’s nice, it’s good, something anchoring Connor to the moment.

“You’re good at that,” Connor says, after a while, when his eyes have stopped burning.  
“Practice,” Evan says, going red. “You had a panic attack? That’s kind of my speciality. Don’t want to brag.”

Connor smiles; Evan beams back.

“Are you okay or do you want to sit here for a little bit longer?”  
“Um,” Connor says. “Sit.”  
“Okay,” says Evan. “Do you want me to talk or something?”  
“Yeah, talking is good.”  
“Okay,” says Evan. “Um. I got my cast off. I mean, you knew that but. So I had a shower without the plastic wrap? I’m sorry I don’t know why I thought that would be something you’d want to talk about, we were in your room and I said – I don’t, um. Okay, so I saw a really cool butterfly yesterday, it was white with black markings and I haven’t been able to find the species online, I mean I’ve probably just not described it very well but I like the idea of discovering something one day. That would be cool, right? But then they name it after you and I don’t think I’d like that. Maybe I could get them to name it after someone else? Like Jared. The Insanely Cool Jared Kleinman butterfly or something? Or you, if you wanted a butterfly named after you, I could do that. Um, me and my mom watched the most recent Star Wars film last weekend, have you seen it? Sorry – nod or – shake – Oh, you should watch it, it’s really good but I wasn’t expecting the ending which I probably should have been because Jared said it was really obvious but I’m not a really big Star Wars fan, my mom was when she was younger? She grew up with it I guess. Hey, you okay?”

Connor nods. “Yeah, I’m good.” Now it’s awkward. “Thanks.”  
“No problem,” Evan says. He stands up and lets go of Connor’s hand. Connor stands up too, picks up his bag from the floor. “Do you want to go meet the others?”  
“Yeah, I guess,” says Connor, mostly because he needs Zoe to get home.  
“I think they’ve already gone in to see Ms Bee,” Evan says. He waits by the door as Connor splashes his face and washes his hands. “I’m kind of glad we don’t have to go in? Not that I’m glad you had a panic attack – I’m not, I’m really sorry, but I didn’t want to have to say anything and let them down, you know?”  
“Yep,” says Connor.

Brian Harris and his friends have gone by the time they get out which is – great, because Connor’s probably accidentally started the school’s next big rumour. Maybe Evan isn’t well-known enough to be the subject of a big rumour; it’ll become Connor-focused – his quickie in the bathroom with some faceless guy who doesn’t even go to their school, wow, what a slut.

Evan keeps up a steady stream of chatter which Connor does not listen to until they reach Connor’s locker which is, for some reason, where all the others have stood to wait. Jared punches a hand in the air when he sees them.  
“We have Bee!” he says.  
“Hey, you okay?” Alana asks, touching Connor’s arm. He shrugs her off.  
“Yeah, fine.”  
“We’re gonna get ice cream,” Zoe says. “You guys in?”  
“Yeah, fine,” Connor says. Evan nods.

She falls into step with them as they head out towards the car park.  
“What happened?” she asks, lowly. Evan, Alana and Jared are ahead, discussing how they’re going to launch the support group.  
“Brian Harris,” Connor says. She sighs. “I mean. I don’t know, I thought the meds were working. And I think I convinced Brian Harris that Evan is gay.”  
“What?” Zoe says. “Sorry – we’ll do this in parts. The meds aren’t working?”  
“I feel like,” he says. “I feel like I did before.”  
“It’s not gonna be easy, Connor, it wasn’t gonna just stop,” Zoe says.  
“I know,” Connor says. “But – you don’t. You don’t know you’re doing better until you’re not doing better, that’s. Look, whatever, you don’t fucking understand.”  
“Make me understand then,” she says. “You didn’t realise you were doing better? Everyone else did.”  
“Great, so I disappointed even more people.”  
“For fuck’s sake Connor, one episode isn’t disappointing people.”  
“ _Episode_.”  
“We’re not arguing about this,” Zoe says, firmly. “I’m not doing that. Why does Brian Harris think Evan is gay?”  
“Oh,” Connor says. “I had a – a.” He says _panic attack_ and he thinks about Larry, sitting him down to explain that sometimes things are difficult but we work through them because that’s what we, as men, do. “I was in the bathroom, I needed to be alone and Brian Harris came in because apparently mom’s told him to keep an eye on me? The last time we spoke before I tried to kill myself he shoved my head in a toilet, but – okay, we’re _buddies_ now, apparently.”  
“He shoved your head in a toilet?”  
“Then Evan came in and I could deal with Evan but I needed Brian to go away so I pulled Evan into the cubicle with me and told Brian to fuck off.”  
“Oh,” Zoe says. She shrugs. “Ah well. Chances are Brian doesn’t know who Evan is, so. Why did he shove your head in a toilet?”  
“He said he was satisfying my death wish,” Connor says and then he overtakes her – accidentally because she’s stopped walking, on the first step out of school.  
“I’m sorry,” she says. “He said _what_?”  
“ _Guys_!”

The other three have stopped by Jared’s car. Alana waves.  
“You coming?” she calls. Zoe jabs a finger at Connor’s chest.  
“This is not over.” Then, pitching her voice louder, “Yeah, sorry! ‘Lana, come with us!” She turns to Connor again, “you’re sitting in the backseat, buddy.”

Connor kind of expected that one. 

* * *

 

His mom is so happy when they get home that she doesn’t mind that Connor missed his curfew by two whole hours.

Larry is less impressed; he sits, scowling, at the kitchen table.  
“When we give you a time, we expect you to be back here at that time. It’s not a suggestion.”  
“Yeah, but dad – ” Zoe says and jerks her head at Connor. “Come on, he hasn’t been out in over two months?”  
“Not a suggestion, Zoe,” Larry says, again. “You can both go up and start your homework now.”

Cynthia is busying herself organising the fridge. She doesn’t say anything, even when Zoe says, exasperated – _“Mom_!”

Connor really misses having a door to slam.

He gets halfway through his French homework – and then he has to finish catching up on Algebra and Biology but then, thank fuck, he’s done, he’s caught up, no more Alana-study-sessions – when Zoe knocks on the wall.  
“Hey,” she says. “Can I come in?”  
“Whatever,” he says. She hovers. “Yeah, okay.”  
“Budge,” she tells him.  
“Just sit on the bed,” he says.  
“No,” she says. “Move.”

His dad found him there, after he took the pills. His mom’s thrown the sheets out, he thinks – he hasn’t seen them since, anyway.

He moves. She flops into the desk chair.  
“So, you and Brian Harris _really_ aren’t friends, huh?”  
“What?” Connor says. “You mean all those years I told everyone we hated each other I wasn’t making it up? Fucking mindblowing.”  
“Okay,” Zoe says. “I thought it was just Julie who was bad.”  
“They’re both evil,” Connor says.  
“Were the skiing trips your villain origin story, then?” Zoe says, and then she pauses, like she’s unsure whether she’s said something bad.

Connor thinks if anyone else had said it he’d be angry again but it’s Zoe and they’re talking. He smiles at her.  
“You read my comic books, you want me to sign them for you?”

She laughs.  
“How are we gonna get out of it this year?”  
“I dunno,” Connor says. The thought of spending a week trapped on a mountain with his mom who treats him like he’s made of glass, _Larry_ and the _Harrises_ is just. “How long do I have until the suicide card expires?”  
“You’ll be playing that one with mom forever,” she says. She swings round in his chair, dragging her foot against the carpet. “Nope, still don’t feel comfortable joking about it.”

Connor tries to think of something else they could talk about. Zoe fills it in for him –  
“Do you reckon Alana likes girls?”  
“I don’t know.”  
“You’re really unhelpful,” she tells him. “Can you find out?”  
“Sure.”  
“Like – don’t ask her. Just be subtle.”  
“Right.”  
“Sense it out.”  
“Sense it out?” He almost laughs. “You sound like Kleinman.”  
“Oh God,” she says, rolling her eyes. She swings back round in his chair. “Nah, I don’t think he’s that bad. He’s nice to Evan.”

Connor makes a face. The standard for people who are nice to Evan is appallingly low.

“Okay, he’s not _nice_ but I think he’s very insecure. I think he just wants friends.”  
“That’s lame,” Connor tells her.  
“Takes one to know one,” she sing-songs. He flips her off, she pretends to wind up a wheel with her middle finger in response.

Larry knocks on the wall.  
“You guys doing homework?”  
“Yeah,” Zoe says, sliding off the chair. “Just came to ask Connor what enjambment means.”

She winks at him as he leaves, like they’re in it together. It’s nice. 

* * *

 

**From: Alana.Beck**

Evan had a good idea in Bio today!!

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Evan had one (1) good idea

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Do you ever get tired of being a dick?

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

1 – do u ever get tired of sucking dick

2 – u cannot talk u r a horrible horrible person

**From: Evan_Hansen**

Jared!

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

You are a horrible horrible person who has value don’t try and kill yourself again

Better?

**From: Evan_Hansen**

Oh my god

Jared

Connor???

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

It’s fine he knows he’s a horrible horrible person

Dad just realised he was on his phone

We’re meant to be bonding as a family

**From: Alana.Beck**

I’m starting to think this group chat was a very bad idea

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Starting?

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

What was Evan’s good idea?

**From: Alana.Beck**

For a name for the support group

**From: Evan_Hansen**

Oh no Alana please don’t

Sorry but it’s really stupid!

**From: Alana.Beck**

You Will Be Found

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

That’s a really nice idea

I like that a lot

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Does it work as a name for a group tho?

**From: Alana.Beck**

What if we use it as a hashtag?

For our social media presence

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Our what?

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Also our mom and dad like that name lol

Well mom does

Dad said hmmm

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Our what Alana??

**From: Alana.Beck**

Our social media presence Connor

**From: Connor_Murphy**

That’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Can I be in charge of it?

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Changed my mind that’s the worst idea

**From: Alana.Beck**

Yeah sorry Jared but I think I’m going to run it at least until we get it off the ground

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Does anyone else think Alana has control issues?

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Kleinman change your fucking handle it’s really annoying

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Connor if we’re not on social media we will be able to affect very little change

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Woah Alana’s cloned herself

**From: Alana.Beck**

Thank you Zoe!

I know you don’t like it Connor but it is important most teens are on at least one social media platform and it’s a good way of generating and sharing information!

**From: Connor_Murphy**

You know how you said you cared about my opinions?

Is it only when they match yours?

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Wow Connor

Ignore him Alana he just had a fight with our dad

Alana?

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Way 2 go Murphy

 

 

**To: Alana Beck**

I didn’t mean that

**From: Alana Beck**

Yes you did but it’s fine

I need to let go

It’s just that I’ve been thinking about this for years. I kind of had a plan

**To: Alana Beck**

What was the plan?

**From: Alana Beck**

Social media presence

**To: Alana Beck**

Why?

**From: Alana Beck**

It’s easier to be anonymous. Sometimes you need that, when you want advice or just to talk to someone.

**To: Alana Beck**

Anonymous?

**From: Alana Beck**

Yeah

Look I really am sorry about the Connor Project

I give you permission to refuse the publication of any information or images pertaining to your person

**To: Alana Beck**

So in normal human speak?

**From: Alana Beck**

I shouldn’t have done the Connor Project I did genuinely think you would be happy about it

**To: Alana Beck**

You do not know me very well

**From: Alana Beck**

I know. I wouldn’t do something like that now.

So if we put the support group on social media, you get to decide when and if we release anything with you in it. You don’t have to be named, you don’t have to have your photo taken. You can be completely anonymous.

**To: Alana Beck**

Ok

**From: Alana Beck**

Really?

**To: Alana Beck**

yes

but you can’t try and change my mind

if I say I don’t want to talk about something I don’t want to talk about it ok?

**From: Alana Beck**

Okay

**To: Alana Beck**

Btw

Are you interested in girls?

**From: Alana Beck**

Nice segue

Yeah, I’m gay

**To: Alana Beck**

Lol does that mean Evan’s the only straight one

**From: Alana Beck**

Wait what about Zoe?

**To: Alana Beck**

She’s pan

**From: Alana Beck**

Cool

Cool

Does she have a bf/gf?

**To: Alana Beck**

Fucking hell

Just text her ok 

* * *

 

“I told you to _sense it out_!” Zoe hisses, the next morning, when she passes him on her way to the bathroom.  
“What?”  
“By the way do you like girls? Jeez Connor, could you have made it more obvious? Anyway, I’m going out with her next weekend.”  
“You’re welcome?”

She blows a raspberry at him and kicks the bathroom door shut.

Cynthia is the only one downstairs, humming as she fills the coffee pot.  
“Good morning,” she says. “Set the table?”

He takes the plates from her and sets them out and then goes back for the cutlery and then he says,  
“Could we make. Another appointment with Dr West for this weekend?”  
“Why?” she says, immediately nervous. “What happened?”  
“Nothing,” Connor says, carefully. He’s trying to – He’s trying to try. That’s going to have to be enough for now. “I just. I didn’t feel so good on Tuesday.”  
“Okay,” she says. “I’ll call her after breakfast, okay? Saturday or Sunday?”  
“Either, whatever.”  
“Okay,” she says. She smiles at him. “Maybe you and Zoe could have your friends round this weekend?”  
“Maybe,” Connor says, vaguely.  
“I think a support group is such a nice idea.”  
“Sure,” Connor says. “Nice.”  
“Do, um. Do any of them – have –”  
“A mental illness?” Connor suggests, flatly. “Yeah, because it’s an actual thing.”  
“I know, Con.”  
“Could you maybe let Larry in on the secret.”  
“Don’t do that,” she says, drawing back. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong if you just snap at me.”  
“’Cos it just _happens_ sometimes,” he says, but he’s been saying it since he was fifteen and they’re not gonna get it.  
“Okay well we’ll talk to Dr West.”  
“That’s not what I want to talk to her about,” Connor says but now he doesn’t want to talk to her about anything, he just wants to go to bed.

Zoe and Larry are coming down the stairs together – Larry’s saying something and then Zoe laughs and Connor can’t leave.

**To: Evan Hansen**

Tell me something cool about trees

**From: Evan Hansen**

Because of its amazing size some people believe the Giant Sequoia is the largest living organism in the world! 

* * *

 

**From: Alana.Beck**

Hey do you guys want to meet up this afternoon and talk about the support group?

We could maybe do homework together?

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Sounds good!

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Yeah sure

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Me n Connor can come after therapy?

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Or?? You could not tell anyone I’m in therapy?

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Everyone knows

We literally became friends when u tried to kill yourself

**From: Connor_Murphy**

We are not friends Kleinman

**From: Evan_Hansen**

Hey no one cares if you’re in therapy it’s good for you!

But you shouldn’t be texting during it

**From: Connor_Murphy**

I’m not

**From: Alana.Beck**

Yeah no one cares!

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

We’ve all been in therapy so??

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Why u in a bad mood Murphy?

**From: Connor_Murphy**

I’m not

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Thought u were gon be like ‘I’m always in a bad mood fuck the police’

**From: Alana.Beck**

Okay I’m gonna be in the Starbucks on Acre in 20 mins if you guys want to join whenever?

* * *

 

When he leaves Dr West’s, he texts Zoe to go on to meet Alana and Jared without him. He wants to go to bed. Dr West wouldn’t let him switch medications, she said she was hopeful about this working out if he gave it a little longer to adjust. He’s tired of his head.

Cynthia lets him go straight upstairs when they get home without trying to stop him so maybe he looks pretty bad as well. He doesn’t care, he doesn’t care.

He falls asleep almost immediately and when he wakes up, Alana’s sitting on the end of his bed.  
“Wha’ the fu’?” he says, into his pillow. She looks at him.  
“Hey, you’re awake.”  
“Hey!” says Evan, from somewhere to his right.

He rolls over – Zoe’s sitting on his desk chair with her headphones in; Jared’s lying across the floor by her feet, tapping at his phone; Evan’s cross-legged by the window.

“What are you –?”  
“Zo said you were having a bad day, so.”  
“Yeah, fuck you Murphy, we can be friends if I want us to be,” Jared says. “Fuck _yeah new high score!”  
_ “Hey, will you proofread my essay when I’m done with it?” Alana says. “I’ll do yours, if you’ve finished it.”

He hasn’t even started any of his homework. It’s piling up on his desk beside Zoe’s Geometry textbook.  
“Okay,” he says, pulling the blanket back up over his head. Alana tugs it down.  
“You’ll overheat if you do that,” she says. “Also we’ve decided that we’re gonna start with Facebook and a blog and the url is going to be youwillbefound. You good with that?”

He gives her a thumbs up.

“I still think we should have Instagram,” Jared says.  
“No,” Alana says. “Because Connor and Evan don’t want pictures and to be perfectly honest, I’d rather not be in front of a camera either.”  
“Zoe and I can be your models.”  
“People would block us,” Connor mutters. Evan snorts and then tries to pretend he didn’t.  
“I just think I have a really good idea for a photo, okay?” Jared says. “We fill a bath with bathbombs but no water, right? And I’m lying in there surrounded by them.”  
“What is wrong with you?” Zoe says, tugging out an earbud.  
“We could pour water on all the bathbombs simultaneously and see what happened.”  
“I vote we kick Jared out of the group,” Zoe says.  
“Ay,” Connor says.  
“Veto,” says Evan. Jared leans over for a fistbump.  
“Are we doing vetos for definite, then?” Alana demands. “We have not voted on vetos!”  
“Ay for vetos?” Zoe says. “Ay.”  
“Ay,” says Evan.  
“Ay,” says Alana.  
“Ay,” says Jared.

Connor mumbles something into his pillow – he’s falling asleep again. Alana pats his knee.  
“I don’t know what you said, but you’re outvoted if you said nay. Evan’s veto is intact, Jared remains.”  
“Why don’t you ever threaten to kick anyone else out of the group?” Jared says.

Then Connor falls asleep. 

* * *

 

Thanksgiving is shit because Connor tells his parents that he does not want to and does not intend to go on the skiing trip this Christmas.

Larry tells him it’s not up to him; Cynthia says _maybe it’s time we start listening to what he says._ Larry says, _maybe it’s time he starts doing what he’s told._

Zoe sits at the end of the table, her hands tight around her cutlery. Connor sits at the other end of the table until his temper snaps like fucking elastic and then he smashes the bowl his mom put the cranberry sauce in and he cuts his palm on the shards and Larry sends him to his room and Connor scratches at the back of his hand until both of his hands are covered in blood.

Then he’s not angry anymore, just tired and numb. Cynthia comes in a little while later. Her eyes are puffy and she puts band aids across Connor’s hands and he just sits on his bed and watches the sun set.

Zoe comes in at half eight.  
“We’re not going on the trip,” she says. Connor wants to fall through the bed and disappear. “I told dad about what Brian Harris said to you.”  
“When?” Connor says, tiredly.  
“About your death wish.”  
“Oh.”

He’s tired.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Zoe says.  
“Yeah,” he says.  
“Do you want me to get you something? You didn’t eat.”  
“I’m not really hungry.”  
“Okay but the websites say it’s important that you eat.”  
“Websites?”

The floorboard creaks as she comes further into the room. “I did research, you know? Your brother tries to kill himself, you research the reason he did.”  
“Oh,” Connor says.  
“Maybe I should print out a few things and give them to Dad.” She’s aiming for a joke but it’s not funny right now. He shuts his eyes. “Hey, Alana texted me. She wished me a good Thanksgiving.”  
“I’m glad,” he says.  
“Are you gonna sleep?”  
“Maybe.”  
“Okay,” she says.

When she’s gone, he feels around in the blanket for his phone. The light is very bright, very quickly – squinting, he unlocks it. Five new messages –

**From: Alana Beck**

Happy Thanksgiving Connor! Hope you have a good day xx

**From: Jared Kleinman**

Yo Murphy have a good one

**From: Evan Hansen**

Happy Thanksgiving Connor

My therapist told me I should try and think of things I’m thankful for (like the letters I think she thinks it’ll help with my self-esteem) and I’m thankful I met you

That was weird sorry

 

He clicks his phone off. For some reason he keeps thinking of Evan Hansen sat at a table texting _I’m thankful I met you_ and then for some reason he kind of wants to cry and then for some reason he actually does.

Then Larry comes in while Connor’s still red-eyed and sniffing into his pillow. He sits on the end of the bed and claps a hand on Connor’s shoulder, because they’re _men._  
“I didn’t know you and Brian Harris didn’t get on. You were always such good friends.”  
“When we were _five_ ,” Connor says. “I was friends with the next door neighbour’s _cat_ when I was five.”  
“Yeah,” Larry says. “You grew up pretty quickly.”  
“I dunno, I think twelve years is kind of hard to miss.”  
“We’re not going to go on the trip.”  
“Okay.”  
“I thought you’d be pleased.”  
“I’m relieved.”  
“Connor,” Larry says, sharply, but he doesn’t actually continue. Connor’s not crying anymore, at least. Larry sits there with him for a while, watching him quietly, and then he squeezes Connor’s shoulder, gets up and goes.

* * *

 

 They only have one week left of term and Alana is all ready to launch their blog in time for the holidays which is the most difficult time of the year, did you not know that? Connor is behind on work again because November was just – shit.

The meds have stabilised though, and he’s beginning to feel less tired and when Jared suggests they all go to the Christmas fair together he only rolls his eyes twice and says he’ll go anyway, so. Baby steps.

Zoe picks Alana up on the way, which means Connor has to sit in the backseat again, which is unfair because Alana’s legs are not as long and he has pins and needles when they finally find a parking spot. He’s just been looping one song on repeat with his headphones on so he doesn’t have to hear them being disgusting in the front, cooing to each other about how _great_ they both look and singing along to the Christmas songs on the radio.

“ _Murphys_! _Alan-aaaaa_!”  
“He’s already had so much sugar, oh my God,” Alana says, cringing. Evan is wearing a blue beanie and blue mittens and a massive black scarf and he’s kind of laughing at Jared, bouncing up and down and waving as they approach the gate. “ _Hansen_! You had one job – ”  
“Sorry,” Evan says, flushing beneath all the knitwear.  
“It’s fine,” Zoe laughs, nudging him with her elbow. “We’ll take turns babysitting.”  
“He wants to go on the rollercoaster,” Evan says. “So, I’ll take the next turn, if that’s okay? I don’t really like heights,” he says, kind of trailing off and kind of talking to Connor because the other three aren’t listening.  
“Okay,” Connor says. He takes hold of Evan’s arm. “Bye Zo, have fun with Kleinman. Text us when you’re done.”

Zoe calls after him, mock-outraged. Evan follows him, tripping a little bit over his own feet until Connor lets go of him and he can fall into step.  
“How are you?” he asks.  
“Fine,” says Connor, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He’s got a scab where he cut himself on the bowl at Thanksgiving. It’s probably going to scar. “You?”  
“Okay,” Evan says, nodding. “I like the lights, and the Christmas tree.”  
“I bet you like the Christmas tree,” Connor says. Evan grins down at the floor. “Are you not a Christmas person or something?”  
“I dunno,” Evan says. “I like it, but I think it makes my mom feel bad, so we never make a big thing out of it.”  
“Why does it make your mom feel bad?”  
“Because she can’t do this kind of thing with me,” Evan says. He’d spent Thanksgiving on his own – Connor hadn’t realised until later. He shrugs. “It’s not so bad, I guess. She has Christmas Eve until Boxing Day off this year, so it’ll be fun, I hope.”  
“That’s nice,” Connor says. Evan twists his mittens round and round.  
“She wants to meet you guys.”  
“What? Me?”  
“Yeah, and Zoe and Alana. She already knows Jared, so.”  
“Oh,” says Connor. That means that Evan has talked about them, about _him_ to his _mom_ who he adores. “Does she – I mean, did you tell her about the – ”  
“Sorry,” Evan whispers. “Was I not supposed to?”  
“It’s fine,” Connor says. “It’s just. There’s no coming back from that first impression, right?”

He imagines Heidi Hansen meeting him and then telling Evan that they can’t spend time together anymore and he doesn’t –

“She’ll like you,” Evan says. “I think she’s just so glad I have friends.”  
“She’d like my mom too, then,” Connor says, bitterly. “My mom _cried_ when Alana called herself my friend.”

Evan laughs, weakly. They walk around for a bit until Connor’s hands start to hurt and then he buys them both cocoa because neither of them are supposed to have coffee and Evan actually doesn’t have coffee.

“Can I ask a question?” Evan asks. He has foam across his upper lip. Connor reaches out and wipes it off and then says,  
“Yeah, shoot.”  
“Um,” says Evan. He’s staring at Connor, big eyes and his mouth slightly open.  
“What?”  
“Um. When did you get diagnosed?”  
“Oh.”  
“I mean, you don’t have to – I was just asking, but it’s a really personal question – ”  
“Everyone knew I was fucked up from second grade or something. Larry was very opposed to any kind of therapy until rehab, which was when I was – fifteen and then again when I was sixteen.”  
“That’s really young.”  
“Yeah, Larry was mad about it.”  
“When did you start painting your nails?”  
“What the fuck? I don’t know, maybe like two years ago.”  
“Sorry,” says Evan. Then he says, “what are you doing about college?”  
“I don’t know,” Connor says. “No, I don’t want to talk about that.”  
“Okay,” Evan says. “Hey, take these.”

He takes Connor’s Styrofoam cup off him, puts it down on the picnic table beside them, tugs the mittens off his hands and puts them on Connor’s.

“Would you get a tattoo?” he asks, passing Connor his cup back like nothing really weird just happened.  
“Yeah, maybe?” Connor says. “Um – your – ”  
“You look cold,” Evan says. “I’m fine.” His face is pink. It’s still weird but if he doesn’t drop it, Evan might cry or something so. “What would you get?”  
“Something that would piss off Kleinman,” Connor says, to make Evan laugh. It works.

When they meet the others by the Christmas tree with forty minutes to go until Connor’s missed curfew, they’ve swapped the mittens for Evan’s hat. Zoe laughs and points when she sees, Alana says,  
“That’s adorable.”  
“That’s gay,” says Jared, who is clearly coming down from his sugar high.  
“Come on, I wanna take a photo,” says Zoe.  
“No,” says Connor.  
“Not for the blog, just for me. And maybe Instagram, if it’s cute and if Jared doesn’t have his eyes closed.”  
“We’ve taken so many pictures and Jared has his eyes closed in all of them,” Alana explains. “He’s cursed, probably.”

They all cram into the frame – well, Jared and Alana and Zoe cram and Connor and Evan are pushed into place beside them.

“Oh my God, Murphy, _smile._ ”  
“Jared your eyes are closed _again_!”  
“’Lana, your hair looks pretty with the lights behind them like that.”  
“ _Gay_!”  
“Obviously, Jared.”  
“Connor, you’re gonna smile this time or I’m gonna tell mom you crushed her prize roses falling out your window.”  
“You _fell_ out a _window_ – ”  
“Evan! Don’t move! It’s all blurry now.”  
“Sorry.”  
“He didn’t fall, he was high.”  
“Why do all your stories about Connor end with _he was high_.”  
“Because he spent most of his time high for, like, three years.”  
“Say cheese!”

Alana and Zoe peer at the screen together. Evan smiles sheepishly at Connor.

“Okay, give me your approval and I’ll put it on Instagram.”

Jared’s eyes are, miraculously, open, but so’s his mouth, like he’s mid conversation. Zoe and Alana have their heads tilted towards each other, red-cheeked and beaming. Evan’s smiling next to Alana and next to Evan, Connor looks only mildly pissed off.

“Whatever,” he says.  
“Aw, he _loves_ it,” Zoe says, laughing. “Send me a copy, or put it on the group or something.”  
“Veto, veto, I look like a moron!” Jared says.  
“You don’t get a veto, you ate all the churros,” Alana says. Zoe checks her phone again.  
“Actually, we’ve got to go or dad’ll flip. Bye –” She leans in and presses a kiss to Alana’s mouth so apparently they’re doing _that_ and Connor didn’t need to see it. “Bye guys, hey, Ev, I’ll text you, okay?”  
“See you Monday,” Alana says, giving Connor a one-armed hug as he passes her. Jared flips him off; Connor pulls the hat off his head and holds it out for Evan to take.  
“Thanks,” he says. Evan smiles at him and his fingers brush against Connor’s as he curls them into the hat.

It’s nice.

* * *

 

  **From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

im probably going 2 die a virgin just letting u know

**From: Connor_Murphy**

We already knew that

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Why Jared?

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Got my fortune told at the fair today

Went back 4 the churros

The fortune teller said

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Oh my god that’s actually pathetic???

**From: Alana.Beck**

We could set you up with someone if you want Jared?

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Who?

**From: Alana.Beck**

Which guys do we know like guys?

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Um

Connor lol

Jason Mahini

Jared

**From: Connor_Murphy**

I would rather stab myself in the eye with a rusty fork

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

U can’t set me up with myself???

U guys are the worst jsyk

Hey Hansen if we’re both 30 and still virgins do u wanna bang?

**From: Evan_Hansen**

NO?????

JARED!!!!!!

I’M NEVER GOING TOHAVE SEX EVER OH MY GO D NOT WITH YOU!!!! DON’T THINK ABOUT THAT!!!!

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Lolz I can hear u hyperventilating from over here

Also – rude?

I’m a catch

**From: Connor_Murphy**

The only time someone would say you were a catch is if your corpse had been thrown in a lake and a fisherman caught hold of you with his hook

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

So extra?

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Fuck all of you

Except you Hansen bc apparently u don’t want a piece of this

**From: Evan_Hansen**

JARED STOP!!!!!!!

**From: Alana.Beck**

Anyway I don’t mind telling you guys that I’m a virgin as well but I think the concept is quite damaging because a woman is not defined by her sexuality and the idea that she only becomes a valid member of society when she starts to participate in sex is a major contributing factor to why women are not judged by their brains etc. in the same way they are by their “sex appeal”

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Look I stopped reading after u said ‘damaging’ bc I got bored but I agree

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

I agree Alana! It’s so damaging especially for young girls

**From: Alana.Beck**

Especially!!!!

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Hey Murphy real question

**From: Connor_Murphy**

No.

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Have you ever sucked dick for meth

**Connor_Murphy removed TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman from the chat**

**From: Connor_Murphy**

That’s my Christmas present to you guys so you’re welcome 

* * *

 

On New Year’s Eve, Larry and Cynthia go to the Harris’s New Year Party and Zoe and Connor are left – blissfully – alone.

Well, not alone.

Alana spent the day with them, painting Connor’s nails and trying to beat Zoe at Dance Dance Revolution.

Evan’s mom’s working so Evan comes round at half nine with lemonade and he looks honestly shocked when he sees that both Connor and Zoe have been drinking.  

Jared comes round at half ten, in a massive puffer coat that makes him look like a marshmallow so Zoe makes him stand in the hall until she’s gotten a photo where her hand isn’t shaking with laughter.

They play board games until half eleven when Zoe finds the TV remote and puts on the news on mute so they can watch the ball drop.

Evan doesn’t seem to really like board games and Connor’s getting tired so they move up to the couch and Evan brings up a folder full of tree pictures on his phone just to prove he has it and then Connor makes him go through them all while Zoe and Alana shriek at Jared for cheating.  
“And this is technically a cactus but look, isn’t it pretty?”  
“So pretty,” Connor agrees, eyes closed. Evan Hansen’s shoulder is really comfortable – who knew. Evan’s still talking about trees – it’s possible he hasn’t actually noticed that Connor’s falling asleep against him, but it’s – nice, it’s – warm –

_“Six, five, four –_ ”

Zoe’s shaking him awake and handing him a bunch of confetti to throw at midnight instead of party poppers, which Evan hates. Evan’s laughing at something Jared’s said, clutching his own handful of confetti. He isn’t even slightly flushed so maybe he didn’t mind that Connor spent the last half hour asleep on him.

Alana pulls him to his feet and then –

_“Three, two, one_ , Happy New Year!”

She kisses Zoe first as Jared shakes the rest of the confetti free of the bag Zoe bought it in and it goes everywhere, little scraps of coloured paper floating down like rain. He gives Evan a one-armed hug and then Zoe gives Evan a hug and Alana gives Connor a hug, squeezing him tight. Jared doesn’t try to hug him which is good because – They’re not there.

Zoe does though. It’s quick and one-armed and she’s looking at Alana flinging her arms around Evan’s waist but she hugs him, it’s the first time in years and years, and when she pulls back she lets him brush confetti off her shoulders.

“I want to take a photo,” she says, when she’s hugged Jared and that’s everybody. “Stop whining, Kleinman.”

He ends up pressed against Evan who is a little pink now and he smells nice, like lemons and laundry soap. When Jared, Alana and Zoe start arguing about which photo is the best and which one they each get to put up on Instagram, Evan steps quickly forward and gives Connor a hug.  
“Happy New Year,” he says, into Connor’s shoulder. “I hope it’s really good for you, you deserve it.”

Connor stares at him. Stupid Evan Hansen and the stupid things he says – it’s Thanksgiving all over again, he wants to cry. He nods because he can’t say anything in case his voice _breaks_ and Evan smiles at him, nervous.

They have to hurry them all out at quarter to one. Jared’s driving the three of them back – Zoe runs out with Connor’s hoodie over her shoulders to blow kisses at them as the car backs up the road and then disappears round the corner.

“You want tea?” she says, when she’s shut the door behind her.  
“I think I’m gonna go to bed,” he says. She smiles at him.  
“Okay. Happy New Year, Con.”  
“Happy New Year Zo.”

She sends him a whole bunch of photos while he’s brushing his teeth – Alana in a feather boa doing Dance Dance Revolution, Alana frowning over the nail polish, Jared in his coat, Alana and Jared crouched over Snakes and Ladders, Connor asleep on Evan’s shoulder –

Connor turns his phone off pretty quickly after that and goes straight to sleep.


	2. Winter, Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all I want to say thank you so so much - the response to this fic has been so nice and generous and it means a lot, thank you! Secondly, warnings for underage drinking and self-medication in this part!

Four days before school starts, things get bad again.

He doesn’t get up for breakfast. Larry and Cynthia have an argument. Zoe leaves, slamming the front door and the tyres screech as she drives off. Connor drifts off again a little while after that, sleeps until three and then he texts Evan:

**To: Evan Hansen**

Tell me something cool about trees

**From: Evan Hansen**

Trees can tell you the direction because moss grows on the north side.

If the tree’s been cut down you can look at the rings of the stump to work out north. In the northern hemisphere, the rings of growth in a tree trunk are slightly thicker on the southern side, which receives more light and the other way round in the southern hemisphere

**To: Evan Hansen**

Cool

**From: Evan Hansen**

Are you okay?

**To: Evan Hansen**

Yeah

**From: Evan Hansen**

Okay

**To: Evan Hansen**

Are you ok?

**From: Evan Hansen**

I think so

I don’t really want to go back to school haha

**To: Evan Hansen**

Neither

He closes his eyes for a minute and accidentally falls asleep again and then it’s dinner which Cynthia makes him come down for. She’s finally off the gluten-free kick but now she’s gone full vegan instead so it’s tofu for dinner. Zoe’s still not back – she’s visiting Alana, apparently, although Connor’s pretty confident neither of his parents know what Alana is to Zoe.

Larry talks about Rich Travers and his wife, who are getting a divorce and Connor manages to get through the whole thing without saying anything more than _here_ when Cynthia asks him to pass the juice.

Then Larry goes off to watch old baseball games on the couch and Connor has a shower and gets back into bed and sleeps until his mom puts her head round the door at half two the next morning to check he’s still alive.  
“What’s wrong, hm?” she asks, when she sees Connor blinking at her. “I thought you’d be asleep.”  
“M’tired,” he says, pushing his face back into the pillow.  
“You worried about something?”  
“No.”  
“You haven’t had a fight with any of your friends?”  
“No.”  
“I like your friends.”  
“Cool.”  
“Why are you guys still up?”

It’s Zoe, in pyjama bottoms and an old Camp Rock t-shirt, stopping in the doorway with a glass of water in hand.

“Connor can’t sleep,” Cynthia explains, even though she woke him up.   
“Connor does nothing but sleep,” Zoe says. Connor scowls at her. “Hey, budge up.”

She palms something off the top of his dresser and drags the desk chair over to join them, folding herself into it to deal Uno cards.

Connor really needs to clean his room.

“Oh, you guys used to love this game,” Cynthia coos. “You used to make your dad play round after round – do you remember?”  
“Yeah,” Zoe says. Maybe she’s lying. Connor doesn’t remember it at all. He doesn’t really want to play, either, he wants to go back to sleep but then Zoe crows in delight when she looks at her hand and Cynthia laughs when she has to pick up three cards and, okay, actually. It’s nice.

* * *

 

He has a two hour session with Dr West the day before he goes back to school. She makes him talk about _Larry_ , which – Well he’s been avoiding the Larry Subject since he started with her for a reason. He gets angry just thinking about it and by the time the clock ticks round to one and he’s free to go, he’s exhausted.

Dr West stands up to show him out.  
“You did really well today,” she tells him, as he swings his bag over his shoulder. He’s trying to finish at least most of his homework before school starts up again and that means he has to take it everywhere with him. “I’m proud of you,” she says.

Connor stares at her for a minute, then he leaves without saying anything and walks straight past his mom in the waiting room and locks himself in the bathroom. He thinks that it was a very kind thing for her to say but, but, but. If she’s proud of him then he’s going to disappoint her and – he’s so _tired_ of disappointing everyone and himself a thousand times a day –

“Connor?”

His mom’s stood outside the door, which – great, now he’s made a scene in a therapist’s office which makes him the biggest psycho in a room full of psychos.

“Yeah, coming,” he calls. He runs the tap until the water’s freezing and then splashes his face.

She’s still waiting outside when he opens the door. She takes his arm and walks him down the corridor, past the receptionist who’s staring at them and out into the street.   
“How was it?”  
“Fine,” says Connor, as he has every time she’s asked that question for the past five months. Suddenly, it’s not enough and she won’t understand but _he wants her to_ – “She said she was proud of me.”  
“That’s good!” Cynthia says. “That’s _good,_ right Con?”  
“But what if – What about when I let her down?”  
“What do you mean? You aren’t – You’re not feeling sick again are you?”  
“I am sick, I don’t _feel_ sick.”  
“You know what I mean, Con – ”  
“You mean do I feel like I want to kill myself again?”

His mother flinches.

“Whatever, let’s just go home.”  
“You’re not, are you Connor?”  
“No,” he says, which is slightly surprising, actually, but he hasn’t been thinking about suicide for – a while.  
“Would you tell me if you were?” she asks.  
“Would you want me to?”  
“Connor, of course I would.”

They’ve reached the car. “Tell me you’d tell me,” she says.  
“I’d tell you,” he says.

She watches him for a moment longer. “You didn’t tell me last time.”  
“I wanted to die then, mom. It’s – It’s not something I can tell you. It’d be good if you noticed the signs.”  
“Okay,” she says. “Okay.”

Somehow it’s the best conversation they’ve had in years. 

* * *

 

He knocks on Zoe’s door after dinner. She’s propped up in bed with her hair in a towel and Netflix on her laptop. She quirks an eyebrow at him, pulling out her headphones.  
“What’s up?”  
“Mom gave me my keys back,” he says. “Car keys.”  
“Oh,” she says.   
“So, um. You don’t have to wait for me tomorrow morning.”  
“Right,” Zoe says. She fiddles with her earbuds. “Or – um. I mean, we’re going to the same place, so I don’t mind giving you a lift anyway? If you want?”  
“I mean, we’re going to the same place so – ”  
“It’d make Evan happy, if we carpooled. It’s better for the environment,” Zoe says, twinkling. “So, yeah. I’ll wait.”  
“Okay,” he says. He’s pretty sure he’s grinning kind of stupidly. “Cool. Thanks. Cool.”  
“Cool,” she says, smirking at him but that’s okay, he deserves it. 

* * *

 

**From: alana_beck@youwillbefound.com**

**Subject: Fwd: [No Subject]**

Hey Connor – thought you’d be the best person to answer this one. Came in yesterday so if you could get me a reply by the end of the day, please and I can put it through the system. Thanks.

Alana Beck

_I was diagnosed with BPD last month My parents don’t believe in mental illness. I’ve been living with my grandmother since I was hospitalised last year but I really want to regain my relationship with my family. I want to tell them that I am mentally ill and I want to help them understand what that means. Do you guys have any advice?_

Connor reads it through twice. He starts typing out a message but it feels clumsy and stupid so he deletes it; he types out another one which is just a bunch of question marks and _Alana why_?

He deletes that as well.

**To: Evan Hansen**

Hey

Does Alana send you emails to reply to?

**From: Evan Hansen**

From YWBF? Yeah sometimes

Normally about anxiety or panic attacks or something

Why? What’s up?

**To: Evan Hansen**

She just sent me one and I don’t know what to say

**From: Evan Hansen**

What does it say?

**To: Evan Hansen**

Do you want to come over?

**From: Evan Hansen**

Yeah okay I can be there in 20?

 

**To: alana_beck@youwillbefound.com**

**Subject: The reply you wanted**

_Start small. Do you have a sibling who might be more understanding with what you’re going though? Talking to them first might help you work out how to approach the topic and give you someone on side when you talk to your parents._

_If not, try talking to your grandmother about it and see if she’ll come with you while you talk to your parents the first few times. It can be helpful having someone else there as a buffer, or just as moral support. Inform yourself about BPD so you can be prepared for any questions they might have._

_I have the same problem with my dad – he doesn’t like the idea of mental illness – and my mom doesn’t fully understand but knowing what you want to get from conversations with your parents can help you stay calm and try to direct the situation towards a resolution._

_I’m sorry that I can’t be more help. Feel free to message back if you have any questions or just need to talk. Remember that your mental health is the most important thing – if conversations with your parents are taking time, then let them take time. Don’t put pressure on yourself to make the situation better immediately._

**From: Alana Beck**

Connor thank you for that reply!

I can send you more of them if you feel up to it?

**To: Alana Beck**

No

Evan wrote it

**From: Alana Beck**

Okay

Maybe you two could team up for more replies then?

**To: Alana Beck**

idk

Ask Evan

* * *

 

**To: Evan Hansen**

Are you awake?

**From: Evan Hansen**

Yeah

**To: Evan Hansen**

You wanna go somewhere?

**From: Evan Hansen**

I don’t know my mom might worry and call the police and then I could get in trouble

**To: Evan Hansen**

Ok

**From: Evan Hansen**

Pick me up in 10?

**To: Evan Hansen**

Ok :)

 

Evan’s sat on the front steps when Connor pulls up. He’s got the blue beanie pulled low over his head and he hurries round to the passenger seat as Connor leans over to open it for him.  
“Hey,” he says, sliding in.   
“Did you tell your mom?”  
“I left her a note,” Evan says, biting at his thumbnail. “She was asleep.”  
“Wow Hansen, didn’t think you had that in you.”  
“Shut up,” Evan says, flushing. Connor grins at him, taking the parking break off. “Where are we going?”  
“I dunno, I just wanted to be out of my house,” Connor says. “You got any ideas?”  
“Uh,” says Evan, now worrying at a hole at the knee of his khakis. “No, sorry, I don’t really – I mean, I don’t – ”  
“It’s cool, Evan, I was just asking. I used to just like driving round, so if you don’t mind –?”  
“No, that sounds good,” Evan says. “Sorry.”  
“Stop apologising, it’s fine.”

Evan bites on his bottom lip, probably to stop himself apologising again. He leans his head against the window, watching the houses flash past.  
“Did you tell your mom and dad you were leaving?”  
“I told Zoe,” Connor says. “They’d have stopped me. Right or left?”  
“Left,” Evan says. “Why’d you want to leave?”  
“I was just bored,” Connor says, vaguely. Evan’s watching him, patiently. “I dunno, Larry was being Larry, so.”  
“Your dad seems nice,” Evan says.  
“Sure, when he’s not your dad,” Connor says. “I don’t really want to talk about him, okay?”  
“My dad lives in Colorado,” Evan says. His hands open and close reflexively on his knees. “Um. He left my mom when I was younger. He got married again like, six years ago. He has two kids now. So. He wanted a family, you know, just not our one.” He huffs a laugh and turns to look at the window.  
“You know that’s not your fault, right?” Connor says, after a while. Evan shrugs. “It’s not, Evan. It’s not your mom’s, or anything, I just mean. It’s not your fault.”  
“I just feel bad for her,” Evan says. “’Cos she has to deal with me and work and she wants to get her degree, y’know, but I make everything so much more difficult for her and. She deserves a lot better.”  
“I think my parents wish you were their son,” Connor says and as soon as he’s said it some great weight floats free of his shoulders. “Or that I was more like you, or whatever. My mom has your letter. She – I dunno, she.”  
“Your parents love you, Connor.”  
“Your mom loves you,” Connor says.   
“I know,” Evan says. “I know, I’m lucky and I shouldn’t complain. I’m not complaining – I love her, but I think her life would be easier if she didn’t have to worry about me.”  
“I don’t think that’s true.”

Evan shrugs again.

“Anyway, my life would definitely be a lot – worse, if you weren’t in it, so.”

He wants Evan to drop it and not look at him because he knows his face is burning, but then they’ve stopped at a red light and Evan is staring at him, his eyes big and slightly wet and his mouth open.   
“Oh,” he says. “Oh, Connor, I.”  
“Whatever,” says Connor, drumming against the wheel. It’s the longest red light in the world.

Evan’s smiling though, to himself, small and shy and the mood in the car has lifted and Connor doesn’t actually regret saying it. He puts the radio on and Evan starts jogging his knee in time to the beat. After a while, he turns to Connor and asks,  
“Hey, what’s your favourite colour?”  
“Black.”  
“That’s not a colour.”  
“Alright, colour police. Red, I guess.”  
“Cool. Mine’s blue. What’s your favourite song?”  
“Why do you do that?”   
“Do what?”  
“Ask me those questions.”  
“Oh.” Evan’s gone red – _damn it._ “Um. Sorry.”  
“No – I don’t mind, I was just wondering.”  
“It’s stupid,” Evan says.  
“Why?”  
“It’s. Um, it’s really stupid and kind of weird I’m. Um. After you – When you tried – With the pills? Um, I realised I didn’t know anything about you and. Um, we’d been in the same grade since I started school and literally, all I knew about – about you was what other people told me and I know that you can’t rely on that ‘cos people say things about me that aren’t true and, and, like, you were almost just _gone_ without me ever knowing anything about you and I realised that I had a chance to make it better, and get to know you so. I just decided whenever I wanted to know stuff about you I’d just ask, and I ask you really weird stuff, sorry, but you know – you’re really interesting, and. Sorry.”

Connor pulls over because his hands are shaking.

“Sorry, sorry –that was so – I’m so sorry,” Evan says. Connor shakes his head at him – he needs him to be quiet. “Are you having a panic attack?”

Connor shakes his head. He doesn’t want to cry in front of Evan Hansen.

“I’m really sorry I called you a freak,” he say, and hopes that Evan won’t notice how croaky his voice is. “And that I pushed you. I’m sorry.”  
“It’s okay,” Evan says. “I’m sorry that I gave you my pills.”  
“You didn’t give them, I – ” _took them_ is what he intended to say but then he has actually started crying in front of Evan Hansen.

Evan says,  
“Oh shit, Connor.”

It’s also the first time Connor – possibly anyone – has heard him swear, and what a waste of a moment.

Then Evan’s unplugged his seatbelt and is twisting in his seat so he can awkwardly put his arms around Connor’s shoulders and tug him over into a hug over the console. He pushes his fingers through Connor’s hair and mutters _sorry, sorry, sorry_ into his shoulder and Connor curls his fingers into the soft fabric of Evan’s jacket and cries for half an hour because he can’t stop.

Eventually he cries himself out, sits back to wipe his eyes on his hoodie and when his breathing is kind of normal again, Evan makes them switch seats and he drives them back. He’s very careful to stick to the speed limit and Connor doesn’t say anything because he knows Evan hates driving, only got his license because he thought it would make things easier for his mom. Evan pulls up outside his house and lets out an audible breath of relief. They sit in silence for a while. The skin under Connor's eyes is sticky and kind of painful. He thinks he's cried more in the last six months than he has in the last six years. Evan's hands are still curled loosely around the steering wheel. He hasn't said anything. Maybe he's waiting for Connor to be ready to talk. That's nice of him.  
“I’ll, um, I’ll drive you back,” Connor says. Evan turns to look at him.  
“Um, sorry, no you won’t.”  
“Attitude,” Connor says, laughing faintly. Evan scowls – kind of. “Nah, Hansen, you can’t walk back, it’s late.”  
“Well, you’re not driving alone,” Evan says, shrugging. He opens the car door.   
“You’ll have to stay here, then,” Connor tells him, getting out as well. Evan baulks.   
“Oh, no – but that would be such an imposition – ”  
“No it wouldn’t, my parents love you.”  
“But you didn’t tell them you were going out.”  
“You mean I’m gonna be in trouble for lying to my parents, woah, Evan I wonder what that’s like.”

He takes the keys when Evan holds them out to him. “Are you gonna be okay with staying over?”  
“I don’t have any pyjamas or anything.”  
“You can borrow them.”  
“I don’t have a toothbrush.”  
“My mom bulk buys spares.”  
“Um. Are you sure?”  
“Yeah,” Connor says. “We have a guest room, it’s fine.”  
“Um,” says Evan. He glances up at the house. “Okay. If you’re sure.”

It’s quarter past three when Connor’s found Evan pyjamas that will kind of fit and sent him off to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He sits down on his bed to wait -

**From: Zoe**

Text me when you’re back

**To: Zoe**

Back

Also Evan’s here just letting you know

 

Evan clears his throat from the doorway. Connor looks up and something – kind of falls out of his stomach because his clothes are too big on Evan’s frame – he’s rolled the pants up but the t-shirt is too long and a little tight across Evan’s shoulders – Connor’s never really noticed Evan’s shoulders, before – and he’s got a little bit of toothpaste at the corner of his mouth and –

“Um, do you have a phone charger? I need – in case my mom calls?”  
“Oh, sure, just use mine,” Connor says, putting _whatever that was_ in a box at the very back of his mind. He gets up to hand it over and then show Evan the spare room which Cynthia always keeps in perfect, guest-ready condition, just in case. “And – I don’t know, text me when you’re awake or whatever, if you don’t wanna come out on your own.”  
“Oh, thanks,” Evan says. He scrubs at his nose. “Um.”  
“Okay night,” Connor says, and backs out of the room and shuts the door before Evan can try and say something like _are you okay_ or _why did you spend half an hour crying on me_. 

* * *

 

Evan leaves before breakfast – his mom’s not mad, he tells Connor, in a way that suggests his mom is a bit mad but he doesn’t want Connor to know. Cynthia and Larry gush over him; as soon as Connor’s back from dropping him off, Larry tells him how irresponsible and unfair it is, dragging Evan into Connor’s fucked up coping mechanisms. He doesn’t say it like that but Connor knows what he means.

Zoe slips into his room a bit later, while Connor’s in bed trying to do his Biology homework. She flops down next to him and shoves her phone in his face.  
“Evan had a good time last night,” she says.   
“Hm? Is that the mitochondria?”  
“No, I think that’s a printing mistake.” She punches his arm. “Evan _had a good time last night._ ”  
“Okay, I’m glad.”  
“He said you cried.”  
“What?”  
“He said you cried, about the pills.”

Connor puts his pen down.

“He told you that.”  
“No – Well, yes, but only because he was trying to convince me you two didn’t have sex.”  
“ _Zoe_!”  
“What?” she says, shrugging. “He _stayed over_? He left in your clothes, you actually didn’t look like someone pissed in your cereal this morning – ”  
“We didn’t have sex, Jesus fuck.”

She folds herself down on the bed beside him.  
“Do you like him?”  
“No,” Connor says, determinedly. “Anyway, I think he has a thing for you, so.”

Zoe chokes. “ _What_?”  
“He – ”

Zoe never read the letter, Connor realises.

_Fuck._

“He – uh, maybe that was someone else.”  
“He _likes me_? _What_? I’m dating Alana – ”  
“No, I don’t think – It wasn’t him, I made that up. No, no – no, no, Zoe, no, give me your –”

 She rolls out of reach, reading aloud as she types –

_Jared does Evan have a crush on someone_

"Zoe!” Connor says. “He’s gonna know I told you!”  
“Shut up, he’s typing,” Zoe says. She sits back down next to him so they can both see the message –

**From: Jared Kleinman**

Uh??

We don’t sit around braiding each other’s hair and talking about crushes

That’s such a fuckin stereotype I thought u were better than this

**To: Jared Kleinman**

I know you know Jared

**From: Jared Kleinman**

Lol ye I totally do

He thinks he’s subtle but hes so obviously hot for ur bro

 

“Oh God,” says Zoe. She looks faintly sick. “I never wanted to read the words _hot for your bro_.”  
“Your fault for asking,” Connor says. He feels a little warm. “Kleinman’s full of shit, anyway – ”

 

**To: Jared Kleinman**

Connor?

Seriously?

**From: Jared Kleinman**

Yh hes got a saving ppl kink i reckon

**To: Jared Kleinman**

Kinda assumed he was straight actually

**From: Jared Kleinman**

HOW. HETERO.NORMATIVE.

He’s never “come out” but i think he likes dudes as well

He likes connor anyway

Maybe he’s murphy-sexual lol

 

“Saving people kink,” Connor says. “What’s that supposed to mean?”  
“Jared’s full of shit,” Zoe says, firmly. She sits back on her heels. “Are you gonna ask him out?”  
“Jared?”  
“Evan, don’t be stupid.”  
“No,” Connor says, slowly.   
“But you do like him?”  
“No, Zoe.” He picks up his pen to drum against his folder. “I don’t think I’m the kind of person who should be dating. Anybody. Much less people like Evan Hansen, so.”

Zoe nods. She pushes up. “That’s the mitochondria,” she says, tapping the page. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re good for him. As a friend.”  
“Right,” Connor says. He wants her to leave.  
“And he’s been good for you.”  
“Yep.”

She bobs up on her heels, on the verge of something else, and then she shrugs and goes. 

* * *

 

Zoe has band practice on Wednesdays.

Connor waits for her because he doesn’t want to be at home with Larry. His nerves still feel stripped raw – they had a huge argument over breakfast and Connor lost his temper and Cynthia cried and Connor only came to school because he stormed out of the house and he didn’t have anywhere else to go.

He goes out through the back doors and finds Sam Taylor sat there with a girl Connor doesn’t recognise. Sam nods at him, awkwardly, and the girl watches him with interest. They’re both high and Sam offers Connor the joint and who is Connor to refuse. He thinks, dimly, of Zoe’s disappointment if he turns up at five with red eyes, smelling of weed –

He goes to the bathrooms by the language classrooms, because they’re closest. He runs the water cold and splashes his face until he thinks his eyes look less bloodshot and then he steps out and bumps into Evan Hansen.

“Connor!”  
“We’ve gotta stop meeting like this.”

Evan laughs, and then he frowns and says,   
“Are you high?”  
“A little bit,” Connor agrees. Evan doesn’t even look disappointed; he just looks sad. Connor had not expected that to be worse.   
“Why?”  
“I was bored,” Connor says. That used to drive Larry crazy. Evan’s gaze is steady.  
“Zoe’s gonna kill you,” he says.  
“Prob’ly, yes.”

Evan adjusts the strap of his backpack, then he says, “Come on.”  
“Where are we going?” says Connor, following him anyway.

They’re going outside – of course, because Evan Hansen’s solution to everything is to commune with nature, or something. They sit on the grass by the running track. Connor stretches his legs out and sits back on his wrists and Evan watches him, hunched over himself, running his fingers through the grass.

“I had to leave class today,” Evan says. “Everyone’s going to think I’m so _weird_. They already do – I did a project on Daisy Buchanan and I almost threw up, I mean, I did throw up, but after, but I couldn’t say anything, I forgot how to speak.”  
“You just had English?”  
“No, I had – In Spanish, I had to do a project, the Daisy Buchanan thing was two years ago, but Jared always brings it up, he says I ruined his street cred.”  
“Kleinman’s never had any street cred,” Connor says, dismissively. “You had to do a project today? That’s why you freaked out?”

Evan winces. _Freaked out_ was probably a little – mean.

“In Spanish,” he says. “I just. They were all staring and I forgot everything I meant to say and people started laughing and.”  
“D’you wanna know a secret?” Connor says, leaning in. Evan’s eyes get big. He leans in too. “No one’s gonna remember that next week.”

Evan sighs. He sits back. “You’re high,” he says.  
“So? Look, Evan, in the _nicest_ possible way – I get that having to present shit is a big thing for you, but most people really don’t care. They just don’t. You’re nice, y’know? You seem sweet, you look like a Disney character – people are just gonna assume you’re shy or awkward and they’ll forget about it.”

Evan twists the bottom of his t-shirt up. “But you don’t _know_ that.”  
“Yes I do,” says Connor. “If people gave a shit about things like that, no one would ever do anything. It’s the big things, y’know.” He gestures at himself. “Throwing printers. Did you throw a printer, Evan Hansen?”  
“No, _Connor Murphy_ , I did not throw a printer.” Evan frowns. “I don’t really see how you threw a printer in second grade – ”

Connor waves this away. “Obviously I didn’t throw it, I was seven and it was plugged into the wall. I dropped it. But that’s the kind of thing people remember. Choking during a presentation – that’s already yesterday’s news. Sam Taylor’s cheating on his girlfriend, that’ll blow up pretty soon.”  
“Who’s Sam Taylor?”

Connor forgets, sometimes, that until a few months ago, he and Evan led very different, very separate, lives.

“Does anyone remember the Daisy Buchanan shit?” he asks, instead. Evan’s shoulders ease, a little.  
“I don’t think so. I mean, Jared does, but – no one else has ever, um, mentioned it, so – ”  
“There you go.”

Evan nods but he doesn’t look entirely convinced. Connor reaches out and pats his hand.   
“It’s okay to be worried,” he says. “But you’re good, I promise.”

It takes a moment but Evan does smile at that.

“The printer thing – do you really not care about that at all?”   
“Nope.” Connor says. He pops the ‘p’, aiming for completely casual and probably missing it entirely because Evan’s still frowning.   
“It bothers me,” he says. “That they say stuff about you.”  
“Whatever,” Connor says.  “I’ll be out of here by the summer.”  
“Y’know Brian Harris?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Why don’t you like him?”  
“What? Do you?”  
“No, I was just wondering why you don’t. I mean, I just think he seems like – ”  
“A dick? That’s kind of why I hate him too, Evan.”

Evan ducks his head, laughing.

“It’s weird,” Connor says. He’s high. “Y’know, ‘cos I’m fucked up? Everyone assumes there’s some big cosmic reason for everything I do. Like, I don’t like Brian so he must have said or done something to me, like, he contributed to my fucking suicide attempt. But I don’t actually care that much about him. Like – it’s just normal stuff, me and him, we just don’t like each other. We’re different people, our parents tried way too hard to make us friends when we were younger. He – We got into a fight, right? Before I tried to kill myself, and it ended when he put my head in a toilet and told me he was satisfying my death wish. I told Zo and she told Larry – recently, like, before Thanksgiving – and Larry went mental about it. But it’s just. A coincidence, y’know? Brian didn’t think I was actually suicidal, and I didn’t try to kill myself because he told me to. I was just. Fucked up. The other stuff was just noise. It didn’t help but it wasn’t. Why.”

Evan watches him, quietly. Then he says,  
“Was?”

Connor hadn’t even noticed that.

“I think you’re doing better,” Evan says, which is nice of him because Connor just got high because he didn’t want to deal with his dad. “I think was is right. Right?”  
“I hope so,” Connor says, because he thinks that's as far as he can go, and Evan smiles and says,  
“Me too.”

Then they have to go back inside because band practice is finishing up and Zoe will expect him to be by the car.

Zoe’s already there, chatting to one of her friends as she puts her guitar in the back seat. She waves at Connor and Evan. Evan says,  
“I’m going that way.”  
“Okay,” says Connor. Evan looks at him, his eyes moving over Connor’s face and then he rocks up on tip-toe and gives Connor a hug. He’s quick – there and gone, tugging his jacket tighter around him as he heads out the gates. Connor stares after him for a moment – his khakis are slightly too long in the leg and he’s got awful posture and his hair’s growing out a bit, it looks good, and he makes Connor’s heart feel weird and tight inside his chest – The hug was very unexpected and right in front of school where anyone who had been looking would have seen and –

Zoe presses down hard on the car horn, sticking an arm through the window to beckon Connor impatiently over. Connor goes. 

* * *

 

**From: Alana.Beck**

Hey so do you guys want to go to a party with me?

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Yeah!!

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Yeah!!

Whose party?

**From: Alana.Beck**

Daisy Ban? She’s an acquaintance from Physics

It’s her 18th and she invited all of us

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Srsly?

Murphy and Hansen 2?

**From: Alana.Beck**

I said all of us didn’t I Jared?

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Technically u didn’t say anything

**From: Evan_Hansen**

But really she invited me?

I didn’t think she knew who I was?

Sorry I know you said she did I’m not saying you’re lying or anything sorry Alana

**From: Alana.Beck**

She invited ALL OF US

She said ‘bring your friends’

**From: Connor_Murphy**

That's not an invite

Sorry I don’t want to go

 

**From: Evan Hansen**

Are you not going to go?

**To: Evan Hansen**

No way

**From: Evan Hansen**

Why not?

**To: Evan Hansen**

Because nobody wants me there??????

**From: Evan Hansen**

How do you know

**To: Evan Hansen**

Because I am me?

I’m not being self-pitying they do not like me she does not want me at her 18th birthday okay

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Jared and I still do Alana

We’ll come with you

Do you want to come Evan?

**From: Evan_Hansen**

Oh haha I don’t know

I think my mom might want to do something with me so maybe not sorry

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

U don’t even know what day it is

That was the worst lie u’ve ever told and Im p sure u were pathological for a while

U just don’t want 2 go if murphy isn’t

**From: Evan_Hansen**

That’s not true

**From: Connor_Murphy**

You can go Evan idc I just don’t want to

**From: Alana.Beck**

You know if you never give people a chance to like you they’re not going to

**From: Connor_Murphy**

No shit Alana

 

**Incoming call: Evan Hansen**

“Hey,” Connor says, a little surprised because Evan hates talking on the phone. “Are you okay?”  
“Um, yeah,” Evan says, a little rushed. “I just. I don’t know, if maybe you. It’s just, I don’t really like parties? I mean, it’s always so awkward when it’s loud and someone says something and you don’t know what they said, it’s always so awkward and it makes me quite – anxious? Um. But – uh, I think. It could be fun, if you wanted to come too, because I trust you and you wouldn’t leave me alone and the other three would, um, not that I don’t trust them but – you know, you get it, maybe, I don’t know, it’s stupid, sorry, I don’t want to put pressure on you to come with me if you really don’t want to, I just. I’ve never been to a party before, I’m sorry that’s so embarrassing, but I thought. Maybe. It could be. Fun.”  
“Evan, I’m sorry, I just really don’t think it’s a good idea for me to go, people hate me.”  
“They don’t hate you.”  
“They do hate – ”  
“Anyway I thought you didn’t care,” Evan says. Check and mate.  
“I don’t,” Connor says, pretty unconvincingly.   
“That was almost believable,” Evan says.  
“When did you get an attitude, Hansen?”  
“Sorry.”

Connor rolls his eyes and then remembers that Evan can’t see him. “Look, I don’t want to, okay? I think it’s better if I don’t.”  
“Okay,” Evan says. His voice is small. _Crap._ “Sorry, I just thought I’d ask.”  
“Yeah, okay,” Connor says, tamping down on the guilt pooling in his stomach. “It’s good you asked.”

His phone keeps going off against his ear –

“Hang on, someone’s texting me,” he says.  
“Yeah, same,” Evan says, and then his voice gets distant. “I put you on speaker,” he says, a little unnecessary.  
“I’m not gonna do that,” Connor says, because he doesn’t want Zoe to hear.

**From: Alana.Beck**

[attached: screenshot_235]

See. She wants all of you there

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Does anyone else want 2 kno what the other 234 screenshots on Alanas phone are?

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

She collects REcEIpTS

**From: Evan_Hansen**

You asked about me?

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Alana that’s weird

**From: Alana.Beck**

Whatever

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

EW YOU CAN NO LONGER SPEND TIME WITH MY BROTHER

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Fucking hell

I will ask my fucking parents are you happy

**From: Alana.Beck**

So happy <3

 

**From: Evan Hansen**

Thanks Connor :)

**To: Evan Hansen**

Whatever 

* * *

 

He was kind of hoping his parents wouldn’t let him go, but obviously they thought it was a great idea.

Larry got very stern about pot and alcohol and Cynthia tried to make him change his t-shirt even though why the fuck would he do that when he did not intend to take off his hoodie. Zoe had to drag him from the house when he changed his mind and manhandle him into the backseat. She was doing the designated driver thing – Jared had told them he intended to try getting drunk, to see what it was like so could they pick him and Evan up as well please.

They pick Alana up first. She’s in a sparkly dress with a denim jacket thrown over her shoulders and her hair loose.   
“You look nice,” Connor tells her, gruffly, when she climbs in the front seat and kisses Zoe’s cheek.   
“So do you,” she tells him, winking.   
“Did he even shower though,” Zoe says, pulling away from the curb.  
“I did shower,” he says. Zoe sticks her tongue out at him; he flips her off.  
“Look at the road please, babe,” Alana says.  
“If we just – don’t pick Jared up, will he be mad?” Connor asks. “Unrelated question. If I stay in the car will you be disappointed?”  
“Jared would be very mad,” Alana says, laughing. “And yes, I would be, and so would Evan.”

She and Zoe exchange significant looks as Connor sinks down, huffing.

They pick Evan up next.   
“Go get him, then,” Zoe says, parking.  
“Just text him we’re outside,” Connor says. Zoe rolls her eyes.  
“I want to kiss 'Lana, I can’t do that when you’re sat there brooding.”  
“Oh my _God_ ,” Connor says, and slams the car door. He can hear them laughing up the walk.

Heidi Hansen opens the door.  
“Hey, honey,” she says, stepping back to let him in. She’s got reading glasses on and she’s in sweatpants and a college hoodie. She gives him a hug, leading him into the kitchen. “ _Evan_! Connor’s here! You want a drink or something?”  
“No, I’m fine thank you, Ms Hansen.”  
“Heidi is fine, hon, seriously,” she says, smiling at him. “You want leftovers?”  
“No I ate before I left.”  
“So how does Alana know this girl?”   
“They have – something together. Sorry, I don’t know her very well.”  
“You’re gonna look after Evan though, right?”  
“Yeah, of course,” Connor says, suddenly uncomfortable. He should not be trusted to look after Evan. Evan shouldn’t have to look after him, but that’s usually the way it goes. “I’ll, uh. I’ll make sure he stays calm and he’s back by – ”  
“Two,” Heidi says.  
“My mom wants me back by one,” Connor says. She grins.  
“Yeah, I remember high school parties. I thought one would be pushing the bounds of reality. Hey!”

The last to Evan as he shuffles into the kitchen.

“Sorry,” he says.   
“No problem.”  
“Have you got everything?” Heidi asks, reaching over the counter to tweak Evan’s collar straight.   
“Yep.”  
“Phone?”  
“Yep.”  
“Fully charged?”  
“ _Yes._ ”  
“Money?”  
“Mom.”  
“Okay,” she says, and steps back, folding her arms. “Okay, you guys have fun. Say hi to the others for me.”  
“Bye mom.”  
“Bye Ms – uh, Heidi.”

When the door has closed behind them, Connor says,  
“You look nice.”  
“Thanks,” Evan says, going straight to crimson. “So do you. I mean, you do, not like, you said something nice to me so I have to say something nice to you. You always look nice, I mean, you’re like – ”  
“It’s cool,” Connor says, smiling at him. He opens the car door and Evan motions for him to go in first, crawling in behind him as Alana and Zoe shriek about how  _good_ he looks. Connor not-so accidentally kicks Zoe's chair as he sits down; she reaches back to punch him in the knee and then they go off to Jared's.

* * *

 

Connor is an awful chaperone.

They’ve barely walked into Daisy’s house before he has to leave. Evan follows him and they spend the next two hours in the back garden. Sam Taylor’s here – he sees Connor and turns right back round into the house, which –

Is probably understandable.

Connor goes through three cigarettes and Jared comes out with red cups. Evan doesn’t drink his so Connor drinks it for him. He underestimated how strong they would be.

“Sorry,” he says. It’s cold and he’s making Evan spend his first party sat outside because he’s too scared to go into a house full of his classmates.  
“It’s fine,” Evan says, and then laughs. “Wow, role reversal.”

He looks relaxed – relaxed for Evan, anyway, which is still good.

“Thanks for coming with me,” he says. Connor finishes whatever was in his cup.   
“Yeah, whatever. Sorry I can’t be – more.”  
“It’s enough I’m here, to be honest,” Evan says. He’s shifted slightly and now they’re pressed shoulder to shoulder on the garden wall. Connor wonders if Evan’s aware of it too, and then he thinks _saving people kink_ and decides he doesn’t want to know. “I think if I was in there it would be too much.”  
“ _Hey_!”

Zoe and Jared are back – Jared presses another red cup into Connor’s hands.

“I like you better when you’re drunk,” Connor tells him.  
“Should you be drinking?” Zoe says.  
“Bit late now.”  
“Where’s Alana?”  
“Toilet,” Zoe says. “Doesn’t she look _great_?”  
“Yeah, really pretty,” Evan agrees, drumming his heels against the wall. “Are you drunk yet, Jared?”  
“Maybe,” Jared says, nodding hard.   
“He’s drunk,” Connor decides. “We’re cutting you off, Kleinman.”  
“Hey.”

Alana slips out the door to join them.

“This house is _so fancy_ ,” she whispers. “They have such nice _soap_.”  
“She didn’t realise the punch was spiked,” Zoe explains. “She’s a lightweight, bless. I’ve given her water and chips, she’ll sober up.”  
“Chips sound nice,” Jared says, dreamily.   
“Hey, Alana, where was the bathroom?” Connor asks. She tells him and then he tells Zoe not to leave Evan until he gets back and then Jared follows him into the house. He disappears off towards the snack table and Connor does not make eye contact with anybody and gets to the bathroom unbothered.

Alana was right – it’s fancy soap, the kind Larry has in his office.

He’s on his way out again when he hears his name – Jared, by the snack table –

“Yeah, pills,” he says. He’s with three girls –Connor recognises one of them from French – and the world is getting smaller and louder around them.  
“ _Why_?” she says. Her friend – tall, blonde, says,  
“He’s obviously unwell.”  
“Yeah, he’s got depression,” Jared says. He laughs. “Daddy issues up to here.”  
“I always thought he was kind of,” the one from French says. She tips her head right to left. “You know.”  
“Oh yeah, he used to be completely psycho,” says Jared.  
“Brian – you know, Brian Harris? He always said he was waiting to see if Connor blew himself or the school up first,” says the blonde one.

Jared says,  
“Hey, that’s not really fair – ” And then he turns to apologise to someone who’s shoved past him and then he sees Connor, standing by the door. “Oh.”

Connor hates him. He hates him, he hates him, he hates him.

He pushes past without saying anything and he hears Jared say,  
“ _Shit,_ Murphy – wait – ”

Connor does not wait. He pushes out of the house and down through the garden and down the street. When he’s halfway down the block he stops, so, so _horribly_ angry again and he kicks a trashcan that someone’s put out for collection until there’s a dent in it and all the garbage has spilled out and then he slides down against the wall and texts Evan.

**To: Evan Hansen**

I had to leave

**From: Evan Hansen**

Where are you?

Jared told me what happened

Where are you?

**To: Evan Hansen**

I don’t know

**From: Evan Hansen**

Okay stay there i’m coming

 

Connor drank too much. He’s throwing up in the gutter when Evan arrives. He crouches down beside him to hold his hair back and then rubs comforting circles between his shoulder blades. He produces a bottle of water from – somewhere, and makes Connor drink it.   
“Are you okay?” he asks, when Connor’s wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and passed the bottle (empty) back.  
“No,” Connor says. The noise in his head is too loud, everything inside his chest has turned sharp. “I hate him. I hate all of them, I told you this would happen and you were too fucking pathetic to just go on your own.”

Evan flinches. He swallows.

Connor didn’t mean that. He didn’t even think that until he got angry and.

There are footsteps approaching and then Zoe’s there, her ponytail swinging.  
“Hey,” she says. She looks between them – Evan turns his head away. “Hey – ”  
“I want to go home,” Connor says.   
“Okay,” she says. “We need to take the others – ”  
“No, I want to go home,” he says.   
“Connor, I brought them all here – ”  
“It’s fine,” Evan says. He’s avoiding eye contact, his hands pressed together so the knuckles turn white. “Um, you could take him back and. Come back for us.”  
“Are you gonna be okay with that?” Zoe says.   
“Yep,” Evan says. “Yeah, fine.”

Connor thinks – _apologise, apologise, say you didn’t mean it._

Instead, he follows Zoe back down the road to the car and he doesn’t say anything the whole way back. 

* * *

 

**From: Jared Kleinman**

Im sorry

You didn’t hear it in context

I shouldn’t have said anything but I didn’t mean to upset you

I really did not it was really shit of me to say anything

I’m sorry 

* * *

 

Alana comes round on Wednesday while Zoe’s at band practice. Connor’s on the couch, eating cereal because he skipped lunch. She drops a pile of paper on the coffee table and swings round to face him, hands on hips.  
“So, are you ever coming back to school?”  
“I don’t know,” Connor says.   
“It’s been three days.”  
“Yep.”  
“We’ve got exams coming up.”  
“Guess I’ll fail them, then.”  
“Connor.”  
“Alana.”

She drops onto the arm of the couch.  
“You know Jared didn't mean that.”  
“Yeah he did,” Connor says. He puts the bowl down, appetite gone again. “He said it, and. He called me a psycho. He said –he called me a freak? And he said I looked like a school shooter, the day I tried to kill myself. So.”  
“You’re not gonna blame _Jared Kleinman_ for your suicide attempt,” Alana says.  
“Watch me,” Connor says. Anger is a lot easier than anything else.  
“You know it wasn’t Jared’s fault,” Alana snaps. “It was a lot of things. And Jared was not the only one to say them.”  
“Whatever.”  
“ _Connor._ Jared does not think you are a psycho. Nobody does.”  
“No, Alana, _everybody_ does. Why is that so _fucking difficult for you to understand_?”

She stares at him.

He didn’t mean to shout.

He curls his fingers into his palms until he breaks skin and then it hurts.

She pulls out her phone and then she passes it to him. It’s open on her emails – no, the You Will Be Found emails.

 

**To: advice@youwillbefound.com**

_I don’t know what I want you to say to this. I think I just want someone to talk to._

_Everyone at school hates me. I used to be friends with a group of girls in my grade but they’re not talking to me anymore. I don’t want to go in to school because I’m scared of people looking at me. I don’t want to be alone all the time, I know it’s so pathetic but I feel so isolated. I can go whole days where I don’t talk to anyone. My mom and dad are divorced, I live with my dad and he works late hours._

_I don’t know if you can help. I don’t think you can fix this._

 

Connor passes it back. His mouth is dry.  
“I don’t want to answer those stupid emails,” he says.   
“You don’t have to,” she says. “I answered it. You know why? ‘Cos that was my whole life, Connor. From – sixth grade. You were the first person I thought I could be friends with. You were the first person who let me think that. So don’t tell me that everyone hates you, and that everyone thinks you’re crazy, because I don’t. And I matter. My opinion matters. And you, Connor Murphy, are my friend, and I think you are important and I want you to come back to school.”

Connor doesn’t say anything.

She stands up, picks up her bag and leaves.

When Larry comes home, he puts his head round the door and sighs when he sees Connor still sat on the sofa in his pyjamas.   
“I thought we agreed you were gonna go back to school today,” he says.  
“You agreed with yourself,” Connor says. “I didn’t say anything.”  
“You do that a lot,” Larry mutters. “Take your bowl out into the kitchen, please.”

Connor does but only because if he left it there he thinks he’d break it and he doesn’t want his mom to cry again. Larry follows him.

“You’re going back tomorrow.”  
“Maybe.”  
“No, Connor, you’re going back tomorrow. What happened, huh? You got drunk – High? What? I’m trying to understand.”  
“No you’re not. You’ve never tried to understand.”  
“I’m sure I did everything wrong.”  
“No, it’s not – it’s not about you.”  
“You make it about me. I spent every goddamn day trying to make this family happy and nothing I did was good enough for you.”  
“I needed _help_.”  
“You were getting help.”  
“No I wasn’t! I told you and told you that something was wrong and you told me I wasn’t trying hard enough! You blamed me for everything, you didn’t even let me explain most of the time, you just assumed it was my fault, you told me I was wasting my life.”  
“You were wasting your life. You had every opportunity.”  
“I needed _help_.”  
“Do not raise your voice at me.”  
“Oh my God,” Connor says, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. Spots pop behind them. “Fuck – I’m not – I’m not using it as an excuse. It’s just a fact, it’s just a fact and you don’t – you don’t even try and everyone – they think I’m insane, you think I’m insane but you don’t try and understand it’s. I tried to _kill myself_? That wasn’t me attention-seeking, Jesus Christ, I wanted to die – you don’t understand. I’m sure you’re sorry I didn’t fucking die when I tried to.”

– For a moment he thinks his dad is finally going to hit him – _finally,_ because God knows there have been times when Larry has wanted to, but then –

He storms across the room and he puts his arms around Connor’s shoulders and hugs him, tight. He doesn’t say anything for ages, just stands there and his breath is stuttering weirdly and it takes Connor way too long to realise his dad is crying.

Eventually he pulls back but he keeps his hands closed around Connor’s shoulders, keeping him there.  
“Don’t ever say that again,” he says. His eyes are puffy. “Connor. It doesn’t matter how angry I get. I never, ever, _ever_ want to hear you say that again.”

It’s weird, because his dad found him. His dad found him with the empty pill bottle and Evan’s letter, the one they thought he left as a suicide note, _I wish everything was different, I wish I was part of something._ Like Connor would ever write anything so pathetic for his dad to find, but his dad did find it.

Larry’s crying again, twitching his nose like he wants to stop but can’t. He takes one hand off Connor’s shoulder and rumples Connor’s hair like he used to when Connor was six and Larry would take him to Little League and if his team won, Larry would let him pick the music on the way back and maybe go for ice cream, don’t tell your mom.

“I was the first person to hold you, y’know?” Larry says. “When you were born. I still remember it, we were on the eighth floor of the hospital – your mom had a great view and I was stood by the window with you in my arms. You were so small.”

Being sentimental doesn’t suit Larry. It sits awkwardly in Connor’s chest as well, like his dad’s best memory of him took place in the few hours after he was born when he probably couldn’t even open his eyes or something. Before he became him, this.

“You know, I have a bad day at work and I think - at least my son is still alive,” Larry says. His voice cracks and goes completely. He pulls Connor back into a hug. “Don’t ever say that again. If I ever – did anything to make you think I wanted you to be dead, oh, Connor. Ssssh, it’s okay. It’s okay.”  
“It’s not,” Connor says, into his dad’s shoulder. “It’s not okay.”  
“What happened?” Larry says.

Which is how Connor ends up on the kitchen floor with his dad sat next to him, their legs stretched out and the oven still off – Cynthia came in at quarter past six and backed straight out again and no one’s come in since.

He tells Larry about the party, about Jared and what Jared said and what the girl from French said Brian Harris said and then what he said to Evan and he tries to explain about Evan’s anxiety so his dad will understand what a fucking horrible person Connor is, then he tells him about Alana coming round and the email and what she said to him.

Larry makes him go back and explain what happened with Brian Harris – the whole Brian putting his head in a toilet to satisfy his death wish thing, which stuck with his family a lot more than it stuck with Connor.

“You know, Owen Harris is a self-entitled prat,” Larry says, when Connor’s finished it. Connor laughs, surprised, and Larry looks momentarily delighted. “I never liked him.”  
“He’s your best friend,” Connor says. Larry leans his head back against the cupboard.  
“God,” he says. “Y’know, when I was your age, my best friend was a guy called Ted. He lives in California now, actually, we still send Christmas cards but I remember, when we were seventeen, we did everything together. The whole world seems very small when you’re young. But in a few years? You aren’t going to remember any of their names. Brian Harris who? Jared – what was his name? See, I don’t even remember now.”  
“But I thought he was,” Connor says. He was going to say _my friend_ but he thinks that’s a bit – Well, he told Jared they weren’t friends on numerous occasions. Maybe it’s his fault. He creates a lot of trouble for himself.  
  
“You never told me anything before,” Larry says. “Getting information out of you used to be harder than pulling teeth.”  
“You never really asked,” Connor says.

Larry sighs. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, maybe that’s true.” 

* * *

 

He goes back to school on Friday.

He texts Alana before –

**To: Alana Beck**

You’re right. I’m sorry. You do matter.

 

And she comes and sits next to him in English, catching him up on what Mr Cowell is talking about in whispers whenever his back is turned. She walks with him to Chemistry too, chattering on about the Biology exam she aced earlier in the week and she offers to meet him outside and go to the cafeteria with him but he shakes his head.  
“I need to talk to Evan,” he says.

 

**To: Evan Hansen**

Hey

I’m at school today and I want to talk to you if that’s ok

**From: Evan Hansen**

Okay

When?

**To: Evan Hansen**

Lunch?

**From: Evan Hansen**

Okay

**To: Evan Hansen**

I can meet you outside the library?

 

They meet outside the library. Evan’s tugging nervously at the bottom of his polo shirt but he offers Connor a tired smile when he sees him.   
“I’m really sorry,” Connor says, instead of hello. “I didn’t mean what I said. I’ve never thought that about you. I was angry and upset and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you, you’ve been nothing but patient and kind to me and I am a complete dick. I think you are one of the bravest people I’ve ever known, actually. You do so much that is so difficult for you and you do it while being kind and loyal and you are. Worth a lot more than the way I treated you and I am really sorry.”

It’s an awful speech. It’s stilted and he manages to make it sound faintly sarcastic but Evan goes steadily redder and by the time Connor trails off he’s staring at his shoes.

“Thanks,” he says.  
“I mean it,” says Connor. “And I don’t want you to think you can’t ask for help. I want to help you.”  
“I shouldn’t have asked you to do that,” says Evan, looking up at him. “You’ve said that you don’t like being around these people. You’ve said it so many times and I shouldn’t have pushed you.”  
“Nope,” Connor says. “This is my apology day, get your own.”

Evan laughs.   
“I want to be friends with you again,” he says.  
“Oh my God,” Connor says. “Yes please.”

He sounds so desperate but Evan looks delighted and kind of steps forward like he wants to hug Connor but thinks better of it.

They eat lunch in the library because Connor has a week’s worth of missed work to catch up on.   
“Have you spoken to Jared?” Evan asks, because Connor isn’t actually catching up on a week’s worth of missed work but on a week’s worth of Evan Hansen.  
“Nope,” Connor says, popping the ‘p’. “Don’t ask me to, I’m not going to.”  
“He’s really sorry,” Evan says.  
“Okay,” says Connor. “But we are very different people and it’s probably best that we just don’t – hang out?”  
“But I like hanging out with both of you,” Evan says. He closes his eyes. “Sorry. Pushing.” 

* * *

 

Jared is waiting outside Algebra.

Connor turns straight to Evan but Evan shakes his head and says,  
“I didn’t tell him!”  
“Zoe told me,” Jared says. “She said you were back.”  
“I’m back,” Connor says. “And now you can go tell everyone. Bye, Kleinman.”  
“Murphy, wait.”

Jared follows him and Evan follows Jared.

“I’m _really sorry_ ,” he says. “Alcohol makes me do fucked up shit.”  
“Jared,” Evan snaps.   
“Okay, the alcohol makes me act _more_ like a dick. It was all me.”  
“Please go away Kleinman.”  
“No.” Jared says, and he reaches out and grabs Connor’s arm. Connor lurches away and Jared looks so shocked that Connor stops, turns, crosses his arms.  
“Don’t touch me,” he says.  
“Okay!” Jared says, hands up. “Um.”  
“You want to say something?”  
“Yeah.” Jared looks nervously around. If it were Evan, Connor would suggest moving somewhere more private, where people aren’t going to stare at them.

Jared is not Evan.

“Okay,” says Jared, squaring up. “Okay, um. I was a dick. I shouldn’t have said any of that.”

Connor stares at him.

“I don’t. I don’t think you’re crazy,” Jared says.   
“Thanks.”  
“I used to, though.”  
“ _Jared_ ,” Evan hisses.  
“I did. He knows I did, Evan, I’m not the one rewriting our history. We didn’t like each other until this year, okay, fine, _I_ didn’t like _you_ until this year. I thought you were someone you were not. You’re still not very nice to me, though. Like, I know you’ve got problems but that doesn’t give you a free pass to be a dick.”  
“It doesn’t give you a free pass to go around saying things about me.”  
“I shouldn’t have told them you had depression,” Jared says. “I’m really. I’m really sorry about that.”  
“Okay,” says Connor.  
“But I did think you were psycho, Connor? Like, for a few years. You. You kind of acted like you were.” He frowns. “I’m not good at this. I don’t get why you don’t like me.”

Connor shifts, uncomfortable.

“You like – you love Alana, you fucking worship Hansen. You and Zoe have your own shit to deal with, whatever, but me? You’re a dick to me, most of the time. I don’t mind it, like, we’ve got good banter going but sometimes you say stuff and I think you actually mean it which you don’t when you’re a dick to the others. That’s kind of.” Jared tightens his grip on his backpack.   
“You told me I was a freak,” Connor says.   
“What?”  
“The day I tried to kill myself? You told me I was a freak. That’s why.”  
“Oh,” says Jared.   
“It was the first day of school. You were the first person who spoke to me. I hadn’t even seen you? I was getting stuff out of my locker and – You called me out, in the middle of the corridor, to tell me you thought I looked like a murderer. That’s why.”  
“Okay,” says Jared. He nods. “Okay, fair. Fine.”  
“But it wasn’t your fault,” Connor says. He blinks over at Evan because he doesn’t want to look at Jared anymore. “That it upset me. So. I guess I’m sorry for being a dick to you since.”  
“And I’m sorry for saying stuff that upsets you,” Jared says. “I think you’re pretty cool, actually. Apart from the hair, that’s pretty lame.”  
“You’re pretty lame, you have a backpack shaped like Yoda,” Connor says.  
“It was a Christmas present!”  
“You _use it._ ”

Evan looks relieved enough to cry. 

* * *

 

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Are we all talking to each other again then?

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

Yep we’ve sorted our issues we r bffs now 

**From: Alana.Beck**

What have you done to your username?

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

THAT IS THE MOST EXTRA THING I HAVE EVER!!! SEEN!!

**From: Connor_Murphy**

wtf Kleinman

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

Lol 

* * *

 

“How was it, Con?”

Cynthia is the only one in the waiting room this time. They had to reschedule Connor’s appointment with Dr West because he’s not sleeping again.   
“Fine,” Connor says. “She wants to start meeting with me once a week instead of twice.”  
“Really!”  
“Yeah.”

She’s beaming all the way down the stairs.

“I spoke to your dad while you were in there – he wants to know if you wanna go for a coffee now?”  
“With him?”  
“Both of us. Zoe’ll be there.”  
“Why?” Connor says. His stomach is sinking.   
“We just wanted to do something as a family. It’s been such a long time – Nothing’s wrong, Con, I promise.”

So they go and get coffee. Cynthia gets coffee – she gets Connor hot chocolate because she’s serious about him not having caffeine with his medication. Larry and Zoe join them ten minutes later.

“Dr West said he can start meeting her once a week,” Cynthia says, when they’ve sat down. Larry nods at him.  
“Good.”  
“Yeah, well done,” Zoe says.   
“Well done on being less fucked up?” he says.   
“For you? It’s hard.”  
“Zoe.” Cynthia says, sharply.   
“Hey, I’m just keeping it real.” She cups a hand behind the shell of her ear. “I wanna get cartilage piercings.”  
“Copycat.”  
“Why do both of you insist on looking like tramps?” Larry asks, exasperated. Zoe puts a hand across her heart.  
“Dad, that’s offensive to tramps.”  
“I think they’re called home challenged people now,” Connor says and he watches Larry’s mouth twitch.  
“This isn’t a very appropriate conversation,” Cynthia says, sharply. Zoe rolls her eyes and then sits up and sticks her arm in the air.  
“ _Evan_!”

Connor twists round.

Evan and Heidi have just entered. Evan jumps when Zoe calls him – he meets her eyes and smiles nervously, then his gaze slides to Connor and his smile gets bigger. Connor’s heart does something weird in his chest.

They come over.

“Hey,” Evan says. He’s put his hand on the back of Connor’s chair. Connor is very warm. “Hi Mrs Murphy, Mr Murphy.”  
“You must be Evan’s mother!” Cynthia says, standing up to press her cheek against Heidi’s.

Evan’s fingers twitch against Connor’s shoulder blade.

“Heidi Hansen,” Heidi says, leaning over to shake Larry’s hand.   
“Cynthia Murphy, and my husband Larry.”  
“Hi,” Heidi says, nodding at them all. She wiggles her fingers at Zoe who beams back at her.   
“Do you two want to sit down?” Cynthia offers.   
“Yeah, sounds good!” Heidi says. She passes her purse to Evan. “Peppermint tea, please, hon.”  
“Oh-kay,” Evan says.   
“I’ll go,” Connor says, vaguely, standing up. “With you.”

He orders for Evan because Evan looks flushed – a green tea for Heidi and another hot chocolate for Evan.  
“You’re out with your family,” Evan says, when they go to the other end of the counter to wait for the drinks.  
“Yep,” Connor says. “I was surprised too.”  
“It’s good,” Evan says. He hunches up inside his jacket. “My mom’s wanted to meet your parents for ages.”  
“It’ll be fine,” Connor says. “Your mom’s great.”  
“Yeah,” Evan says, nervously. “Uh. What if – they say something?”  
“Something?”  
“I don’t know, what if they hate each other?”  
“They won’t,” Connor says. “Even if they do I don’t care, we’re friends anyway, right?”

The tension eases out of Evan’s shoulders a bit. “Right.”  
“What are you doing round here anyway?”  
“Oh, I had an appointment with Dr Sherman.”  
“How’d it go?”  
“Okay, actually,” Evan says. “I might – I’m gonna apply for a job this summer, I think.” The surprise must show in Connor’s face because he hastens to explain. “Dr Sherman thinks it’d be good for me? And it’d be good to have some money, ‘cos I feel bad, my mom’s paying for my – everything?”  
“I think it’s a good idea, Evan,” Connor says. “Where are you gonna apply?”  
“Pottery Barn,” Evan says, and he laughs when Connor does. “My mom loves Pottery Barn, so I figure she could use my discount.”  
“Oh my God,” Connor says. “You are so. Nice.”  
“No I’m not.  
“Yeah, you are, you are like – obscenely nice.”

He’s still smiling when he turns to pick up the drinks – his hands shake less than Evan’s and he knows Evan gets stressed about spilling hot drinks and staining his clothes and having people think he has bad hygiene and when he turns back, Evan says, all in a rush,  
“You look really pretty when you smile.”  
“Um,” says Connor, a little blindsided.   
“Just being nice,” Evan says, breathlessly. “Cool. Bye.”

They’re going back to the same table so that doesn’t really make sense but Connor can’t stop smiling even when Larry says something about how lucky _Connor_ is to have made a friend like _Evan_ because he is, he is, he is. 

* * *

 

**From: Evan Hansen**

Hey Alana sent over an email she wants me to reply to but I don’t really know how to say what I want to say

**To: Evan Hansen**

You want my help?

**From: Evan Hansen**

Yes please

**To: Evan Hansen**

Ok I’ll try but no promises

what’s the email say?

**From: Evan Hansen**

It’s from someone who wants to come out to their family?

**To: Evan Hansen**

Um

Sorry I don’t think I’m gonna be much help I haven’t actually come out to Cynthia and Larry

**From: Evan Hansen**

I’m so sorry I didn’t realise!!!

I just assumed bc Zoe knew???

I shouldn’t have assumed???

**To: Evan Hansen**

No it’s fine

Why did Alana send it to you though? Why not Jared?

**From: Evan Hansen**

Jared’s been suspended from answering emails until he stops sending Alana memes in reply :/

**To: Evan Hansen**

That…makes sense

**From: Evan Hansen**

Can I tell you something?

**To: Evan Hansen**

Yep

**From: Evan Hansen**

I’m bi

Bisexual

**To: Evan Hansen**

Cool

**From: Evan Hansen**

Yeah?

**To: Evan Hansen**

Yeah :)

Thanks for telling me

Have you told the others?

**From: Evan Hansen**

No… but I think Jared suspects

I haven’t told him though

Or my mom

You were the first person I told.

The only person I told I haven’t told someone else in the last 5 minutes

**To: Evan Hansen**

Ok

Hey you can just use that for your reply

**From: Evan Hansen**

Like method acting!!!

**To: Evan Hansen**

Wow

Nerd???

**From: Evan Hansen**

:D D :D

Thanks Connor

**To: Evan Hansen**

No problem?

 

He hovers over the keypad for a moment longer - he's not sure what he wants to say, just that he wants to say  _something_. Something about the way Evan sits so close to him, maybe, or the hug on the school steps the last time Connor got high, or the fact they've never spoken about the whole Connor-crying-on-him-for-half-an-hour-in-a-car thing since it happened. 

Then he thinks  _saving people kink_ and he clicks his phone off and goes back to his homework.


	3. Spring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much again you have all been so kind to this fic I cannot believe it. I am nervous about this chapter but here we go: warnings for: smoking and references made to attempted suicide.

 

On the last Friday of term before spring break, they go to Jared’s for a movie night.

Jared’s because he has the biggest collection of movies and also because the Harrises are coming round for dinner.

Larry doesn’t say anything about it when Zoe tells him they won’t be there. He just nods and asks her to pass the butter.

They’re not good. They’re nowhere near good, but they’re getting somewhere better.

Jared tries to put on _The Bee Movie_ but Zoe tackles him and they end up watching _Mulan_ instead because Alana and Connor have never seen it.

Alana and Zoe share a beanbag, Zoe’s arms around Alana’s shoulders. Jared lies on the floor wrapped in a blanket and hogging the popcorn. Evan and Connor sit on the couch and Connor misses a lot of the plot because Evan’s shoulder is pressed against his and he can smell Evan’s shampoo and hear the slight hitch in his breath when something exciting happens, even though Jared said he’d seen this film four times.

Once, Evan catches him looking and Connor turns back to the screen so fast his neck hurts and he can feel himself blushing. He hopes it’s dark enough that Evan can’t see.

When they turn the movie off, Jared gets up to turn the lights back on. They attempt to choose another film but they don’t get round to it when Zoe asks what people are doing for spring break.  
“My grandma’s visiting,” Alana says. “So I’m gonna spend it in the closet.”

Jared reaches back for a fistbump. Connor sighs.

“I’m going camping with my cousins,” Jared says.   
“For the whole week?”  
“Nah, just Monday through Wednesday.”  
“Shall we meet up on Sunday before school?” Alana asks.  
“I’d like that,” Evan says quietly.  
“I think we have to go out for dinner,” Zoe says. She leans back. “Sorry, I just spoiled the surprise.”  
“It’s not a surprise if it’s happened every year since I was twelve,” Connor says.  
“Why do you guys have to go out for dinner?”   
“For his birthday,” Zoe says.

Jared chokes. Alana leans over to thump him on the back. He sits up, eyes streaming and points accusingly at Connor.

“ _Your birthday?_ ”  
“Yes?”  
“Your birthday is _next Sunday_?”  
“Yes.”  
“Your birthday is – ” Jared says and then he dissolves into laughter.   
“What?” Evan says.  
“I don’t get it,” Alana says.  
“I was born on April 20 th,” Connor says, scowling at Jared.   
“I don’t get it,” Alana says, again.   
“20th of April,” Jared says, sniggering. “20th of the 4th. He’s a stoner. He was _literally born_ on pot day, 4/20 blaze it, come on guys.”  
“Oh my God,” Alana says, burying her head in her hands. Evan’s laughing too.  
“Yes, it’s so funny,” Connor says, smothering his own smile at the sight of the rest of them.  
“Oh but if it’s your birthday we have to do something!” Alana says. “On Saturday?”  
“He doesn’t like people celebrating his birthday,” Zoe says.   
“Yeah but we have to,” Jared says, rolling over. “’Cos, it’s important? A dude only turns 18 once.”  
“We didn’t think you were gonna get to 18 six months ago,” Alana says. “It’s important.” She turns to smile at him. “Can I embarrass you and say how proud I am of you?”  
“No you absolutely cannot,” Connor says. He has to keep looking at her because Evan is smiling softly at him from his other side.

Zoe smiles at him too but then she turns to Jared.

“Hey, Jared, when was your birthday?”  
“October,” Jared says.   
“Okay, how about we celebrate Jared’s birthday on Saturday instead?”   
“I can do that,” Connor says, when they all turn to look at him.  
“Does this mean I get to choose what we do?” Jared says, gleefully.  
“We get vetos,” Alana says, at once.

Jared cackles, rubbing his hands together.

“No costumes,” Connor says. Jared scowls at him.   
“You don’t know me,” he says. Zoe stretches out her legs so her feet are resting on Jared’s stomach.   
“You literally came to school dressed up like that guy from Death Note on Halloween,” she says. Connor chose the wrong time to take a drink. Evan leans over to pat his back.  
“Firstly, it’s _cosplay_ , not _dressing up,_ ” Jared says. “Secondly, I looked damn hot, Murphy, don’t fucking laugh.”  
“How did I miss that?” Connor says, eyes streaming.   
“You were probably high,” Zoe tells him.   
“Did you wear a cape?”

Jared turns his head to give him a disparaging look. “You’ve no idea what Death Note is, huh?”  
“Nope,” Connor says.   
“I’m gonna take you guys to ComicCon,” Jared decides. He pats Zoe’s feet. “I need to pee, get off me.”

She swings her legs off him and onto Alana, sliding off the bean bag in the process so she’s half upside-down on the floor. She tugs her hair out from beneath her as Jared runs upstairs, hitting the lights back on as he passes them.   
“I think I’m gonna dye my hair again this summer,” Zoe says.   
“What colour?” Alana asks.  
“Dunno.”  
“I liked it when you had the indigo in it,” Evan says, carefully. “That looked pretty.”  
“Yeah?” Zoe says, beaming at him. “I was thinking maybe blue this time? Like, electric blue?” She laughs. “Mom and dad _freaked_ out last time, didn’t they Connor? They thought it was – like, mom said it was my teenage rebellion, like I was attention seeking.” She rolls her eyes, waving her hand up in Connor’s direction. “It was when you went to rehab, wasn’t it?”  
“Probably,” Connor says, because it would explain why he doesn’t really remember Zoe with – indigo streaks in her hair.

The silence stretches. Zoe’s pulled out her phone and is scrolling through Instagram; Alana’s trying to pull the _Mulan_ DVD box towards her without dislodging them both from the bean bag. Evan’s fidgeting with the bottom of his T-shirt. Connor forgets, sometimes, that hearing stuff like _rehab_ makes people awkward. It’s his fault that Zoe has to talk about it so freely, that it’s not weird for her. Then Evan nudges him, gently, with his shoulder and when Connor looks at him, he’s smiling. Connor can’t tell if he knows, but he always seems to be there to take Connor back out of his head when it starts getting loud.

“Yo,” Jared says, thundering back down the stairs. “Mom wants to know how long you guys are staying for.”  
“Oh, we can leave if it’s an inconvenience – ” Alana says.   
“No trouble, she just wants to know.” He aims finger guns at her, cuffing Evan round the head as he passes him to drop back down in front of the TV. Zoe twists to look at Connor.  
“Uh, we should probably get going soon if we’re dropping these two off before curfew,” she says.

There’s an awkward shuffle as they all try to get up and pick up coats and bags and Evan and Jared collect the pizza boxes to recycle because, of course. Jared comes out as far as the mailbox with them, wrestling the cardboard into the recycling bin by the fence and then he runs inside, over the wet grass in his socks, calling goodbyes over his shoulder and slamming the door shut.

Zoe parked halfway down the road. She and Alana hold hands, swinging them between them. Evan and Connor hang back – Evan taking care to avoid the cracks on the sidewalk.  
“Did you like the film?” he asks, teetering over one.   
“Yeah it was okay,” Connor says.  
“Cool,” says Evan, and he shoots him another smile, kind of nervous. Connor’s heart is doing – weird things. He can’t help smiling back. “Hey, have you ever seen Up?”  
“Up?”  
“Yeah? It’s about this old man and he goes on a trip – his house flies, right? And he goes on a trip to the rainforest, it’s really good, but it’s really sad at the beginning.”  
“Oh,” says Connor. “His house flies?”  
“Yeah, he attaches balloons to it,” Evan explains. He tugs at the arm of his coat. “Uh. Sorry, that was really weird.”  
“It’s okay,” Connor says. Evan sidesteps a crack on the sidewalk. “You’re not really that weird, you don’t have to apologise for it.”  
“I – Hah, okay,” Evan says.

He climbs into the car first, when they reach it, and rests his head against the window. The streetlights turn him golden as they drive past – his mouth curves up at something Alana says, off-hand, from the front, and then he laughs and his gaze slips over to Connor’s. That’s when Connor realises he was staring and he looks away, out the other window and he doesn’t say anything else.  

* * *

 

He does briefly contemplate Googling what a crush feels like. It’s not like he’s never had one before, but he got so used to everything being loud and scrambled inside his head that it all kind of blurred into one.

He gets as far as opening his computer before realising that that would be hitting new levels of pathetic and he’s –

Well, he’s clearly not better than that, but there are probably better ways of finding out.

**To: Alana Beck**

Is zo with you?

**From: Alana Beck**

No? What’s up?

**To: Alana Beck**

ok don’t ask why but how long have you liked her?

Zoe?

**From: Alana Beck**

Maybe since we started talking last fall? I knew who she was before then, obviously, we were acquaintances but I don’t think I really knew her well enough to like

Why?

**To: Alana Beck**

I literally said don’t ask why???

**From: Alana Beck**

Okay jeez sorry

**To: Alana Beck**

How did you know you liked her?

**From: Alana Beck**

What do you mean?

 

Connor sighs. He puts his phone down, picks it up again when it vibrates on his French homework.

 

**From: Alana Beck**

I always thought she was really pretty, there’s an aesthetic appeal there, and I liked talking to her when we started hanging out more, she made me feel heard and safe. I wanted to spend more time with her and then I realised I wanted to kiss her as well.

Is that what you meant?

**To: Alana Beck**

Yeah

Thanks

So it was just friendly? But you wanted to kiss her as well?

**From: Alana Beck**

Do you like someone?

**To: Alana Beck**

For someone whos so smart youre really bad at reading?? I said don’t ask???

**From: Alana Beck**

I know you can’t see me but I’m rolling my eyes

 

He’s smiling down at his phone when Cynthia knocks on the wall.  
“Hey,” she says. “Dad and I are thinking of getting takeout for dinner?”  
“Okay,” he says. She comes further in.  
“Who are you texting?”  
“Alana.”  
“Oh,” she says, nodding. “I do like her, she’s very pretty, isn’t she?”  
“Yeah, sure.”

He briefly entertains the idea of coming out to her now, randomly, without any warning. Then he thinks she might cry and he doesn’t really want to deal with that.

“I met your dad when I was your age,” she says. “A little older, I guess, we were in college.”  
“Oh my God.”  
“I’m just _saying_ ,” she says, laughing. “You and Zoe are exactly the same.”  
“Don’t say that.”  
“You know what I mean.”

He taps his pencil against the worksheet he was supposed to be going through and hopes she’ll get the message. She doesn’t, she’s opening a window even though she knows he doesn’t like having his window open and then straightening his duvet –

“They’re good feelings, right, Con?” she says, coming over to the desk to pick up the mug he had tea in earlier.

He knows she doesn’t mean Evan but he thinks about Evan sitting by him in Algebra and his stomach does that nervous pulling thing again, but it’s not. It’s not bad.

“Yeah,” he says. “They’re good.”

* * *

 

  **From: Evan Hansen**

Hey do you want to come round and do homework together?

**To: Evan Hansen**

Yeah ok

**From: Evan Hansen**

:)

 

Evan opens the door before Connor rings the bell which means he was waiting for him which is kind of – nice.

He’s set up his homework on the coffee table – Spanish sheets scattered over a half-finished English paper and print outs of emails from You Will Be Found.  
“You do a lot of these, huh?” Connor says, picking one of them up.   
“Uh, yeah. I like it, I like helping people. I don’t know if we actually help them but I think it’s good to try at least, you know?”  
“Yeah,” Connor says.   
“Do you want a drink or something?”  
“Water?”

He goes over to the photos on the bookshelf when Evan shoots off to the kitchen. Photos of Evan as a baby, sitting on a man’s knee – his dad, maybe? They have the same nose. Photos of Evan with his mom, Evan in a Boy Scouts uniform – of course he was a Scout, of _course_ – Evan beaming, gap-toothed, down from a jungle gym, Evan and Jared, maybe eleven years old, with their arms around each other.

There aren’t any photos of Evan where he looks older than thirteen. Connor wonders why that is – in his house, the photos stop when his mom stopped wanting to take them but he can’t imagine Heidi thinking anything like that.

Evan comes back with water and puts it on a coaster.

“How’s your holiday been?” he asks.   
“Um, fine,” Connor says. He sinks awkwardly into the couch next to Evan. He doesn’t know what it is about the Hansens’ home that makes him uncomfortable. It’s a nice place – it feels worn in, well-loved. He feels like he’s smudging everything he touches in places like this, marking them, ruining them. “Yours?”  
“Okay. I haven’t really done any work.”  
“Neither,” says Connor. “Have you heard back from any colleges yet?”  
“Not yet,” Evan says. He rubs the back of his neck. “I, um. I kind of think it’s too late for me to have an acceptance.”  
“It’s not that late,” Connor says.

He didn’t apply. He’ll apply next year, maybe. He never thought he’d reach eighteen. He never thought about college before.

Evan drums a biro against his knee. “It’s quite late,” he says, and then he shoots a nervous look at Connor.   
“It’s fine, Evan, it’s my own fault I’m not going.”  
“It’s not your _fault._ And you can still go.”  
“Yeah, maybe.”  
“Alana says you’re really good at English. I mean you have to be, right, you’re in the same class as – ”  
“Yeah, so you’re doing your Spanish homework?”  
“Yeah,” Evan says, flushing. “Do you have work with you?”  
“Algebra?”  
“I haven’t done that yet, I’ll go get it.”

He brings it back and two pencils. He folds himself up on the couch beside Connor and says,  
“I hate Algebra.”  
“Same,” Connor says, and then it’s not weird anymore.

They get through the first four questions before Connor gives in –  
“Would your mom mind if I smoked in here?”  
“Uh,” Evan says, flushing. That means yes. “We could go outside?”  
“Yes please.”

They sit on the back porch while Connor lights his cigarette.

“Have you ever tried quitting?”  
“Yeah, like ten times,” Connor says. He breathes in, blows out with his head turned away so the smoke won’t get in Evan’s eyes. “Didn’t work.”  
“Hah,” says Evan. He watches Connor’s cheeks hollow and then he turns away, fidgeting. “How’d you start?”  
“Smoking? I don’t know, probably thought it was a good way of getting back at my dad for something.”  
“Do your parents mind?”  
“Yeah, it’s not their favourite thing. But it’s not their least favourite thing, so we don’t really talk about it. I mean, it’s not pot, y’know?” He considers it. “Or suicide.”

Evan tucks his hands beneath his knees.

“Why do you like trees so much?” Connor asks, after a while. Evan huffs a laugh, tucking his face away. Connor’s heart tries to crawl up his windpipe.  
“They’re steady,” he says. “And strong. I used to talk to them.”  
“Talk to them?”  
“Yeah. I didn’t have any friends, so. I’d talk to the trees.”  
“That’s.”  
“Sad?”  
“Yeah, sorry.”  
“I know,” Evan says. He twists his mouth up, then points across the garden. “That one was called Christopher.”  
“ _Christopher_? Christopher the tree?”  
“Yep,” Evan says, and he starts laughing first so Connor figures it’s okay to join in.

“Zoe and Alana have their six month anniversary soon,” Connor says **,** once his cigarette’s down to the filter. He stubs it out.  
“I know,” Evan says, dimpling. “I’m so happy for them, I think they’re really good for each other.”  
“Yeah, Zo’s happy,” Connor says. He thinks that the reason she used to be unhappy was mostly him. He doesn’t say it. “I think she’s kind of dreading Alana going to college though.”  
“Yeah?”  
“Well, she’ll probably go out of state and forget all about us.”

He was aiming for a joke but Evan takes it seriously.

“No one’s gonna forget you guys,” he says. “We’re friends.”

Connor shrugs. He doesn’t want to talk about college.

“It’ll be weird not being in school anymore, won’t it?”  
“I can’t wait,” Connor says.  
“Same,” Evan says. “Oh God, _same_.”  
“What do you wanna do then? Out of school?”  
“I want to travel,” Evan says. He bites down on his lip. “I want to be brave enough to travel.”  
“You’re plenty brave,” Connor says. “Where’d you want to go?”  
“I’d like to see mountains,” Evan says. “Like – proper ones. Everest or Mount Blanc or something? And the rainforest, I’d like to see the rainforest.”  
“I’d like to go to cities,” Connor says. “San Francisco.”  
“I want to go to Europe.”  
“Yeah,” Connor agrees, smiling. “London. Paris. Barcelona.”

Evan beams at him. It hits him, sometimes, that he _wants to do_ things. He goes quiet and clicks his lighter on and off.

“Jared hooked up with someone camping,” Evan says. Connor still can’t tell if it’s a coincidence, that he always changes the subject or gets Connor’s attention just as he starts to retreat back into himself.   
“Ew,” Connor says. Then, “I thought he was going camping with his cousins.”  
“Yeah, but they went to a campsite – gross, Connor?”  
“Ugh, whatever, I don’t want to think about Kleinman doing _anything_.”

Evan laughs. He pushes his breath out through his teeth and then he says,

“I’ve never kissed anybody.” He looks horrified immediately after.  
“Okay,” says Connor.   
“It’s weird though, right?”  
“No.”  
“When did you have your first kiss?”  
“I don’t know, when I was fifteen maybe.”  
“See, that was so long ago, it’s weird.”  
“It’s not weird, Evan.”  
“Who was it?”  
“Huh?”  
“Someone at school?”  
“Yeah, right, that’s likely.”  
“Who?”

Connor shrugs. “Some guy my dealer knew.”  
“Some guy?”  
“Yep.”

Evan’s blushing scarlet. Connor feels very detached.

“I think you deserve a lot better than that,” Evan says, all at once. Connor laughs.  
“Whatever.”  
“Not whatever,” Evan says, still bright red but very firm. Then he leans forward and he kisses Connor’s cheek. He rocks back immediately. His eyes are round and he opens his mouth to squeak an apology and Connor leans forward and kisses him properly.

Evan’s mouth is still moving against his for a second like he’s still trying to apologise. Then he makes a little sound and slides one of his arms up around Connor’s neck, pulling him closer.

When Connor pulls back, Evan’s mouth is red and his eyes are shining.   
“There,” Connor says. “Now you’ve been kissed – and hey, you remember it so you’ve got one up on me already.”  
“Oh,” says Evan, softly. He’s staring at Connor like Connor’s some sort of miracle, sat on his mom’s back porch with cigarettes. Connor wants to kiss him again. He says,  
“It’s. Um, the first kiss is always kind of shit, so. It’s the second one that – ”  
“Oh,” says Evan again and then they’re kissing again. “What about the third?” Evan gasps, when Connor’s sat back again.  
“Even better,” Connor tells him.

Evan starts shivering after a while so they go back into the house and the Algebra and they get to the fifth question before Evan says,  
“I just. I think you’re beautiful.”

So Connor kisses him again.

Evan pulls back a little while later to say, “I mean, I don’t just think you’re – um, hot? I think, I mean you are hot, but I think you’re really smart and you make me laugh and you let me talk at you and you always act interested even when I’m being stupid and I always feel safe with you and – ”

Connor kisses him because that’s the only way he knows how to say _I like you I like you I like you_ and Evan puts his hands in Connor’s hair and he ends up backed against the arm of the couch with Evan’s weight warm and steadying on top of him. He keeps on leaning back to ask, _are you okay? Is this alright? Am I hurting you_?

Connor’s heart is very full. 

* * *

 

He goes straight to his room when he gets home because Larry sees him walk through the door smiling and asks him if he’s high.

He’s already eaten, anyway – Evan heated up a frozen pizza and they made out on the kitchen counter while it cooked.

He finishes his Algebra and then goes to bed and texts Alana:

**To: Alana Beck**

I guess if there are emails that I’d be best to answer you can send them over

**From: Evan Hansen**

I really like you

 

Connor rolls onto his side and grins stupidly into his pillow. He taps out a reply and then deletes it and then retypes it and he thinks about Evan’s dazed, happy smile after Connor kissed him – the first time – and he sends it before he can talk himself out of it.

**To: Evan Hansen**

I really like you too 

* * *

 

They meet up again on Thursday. Evan waits on the front step and Connor opens the car door from the inside and then it’s awkward. They didn’t really talk the last time they saw each other, they just. Kissed. A lot.

So they drive in silence until Connor sees the turning, and then he says,  
“Oh, hey, I want to show you something.”

The orchard was shut down a couple of years ago. Connor hasn’t been here since the last time his family packed up a picnic – he must have been twelve, maybe a little younger, just before everything got bad. The gravel crunches under his feet as he gets out of the car and goes round to meet Evan, climbing out of the passenger seat. Evan tightens his arms around himself, looking around.  
“Where are we?”  
“I’m not gonna murder you, Hansen, come on.”  
“Oh, no I didn’t mean – sorry, I just – ”

They have to walk until the car is out of sight before Connor finds a gap in the fence. He holds it open for Evan to slip through and then ducks through himself.  
“This is illegal, isn’t it?” Evan says. “This is illegal – what if we get caught – ”  
“We won’t get caught,” Connor says, patiently. “I promise.”  
“It’s breaking and entering.”  
“We didn’t break anything, it’s just entering, and if that was a crime you’d never be able to go anywhere.”  
“That’s stupid logic,” Evan says, but he follows Connor further into the trees anyway.

The orchard opens up onto a big green space. The grass is full of dandelions but not overgrown – Connor thinks he remembers his mom telling him that the church sometimes used it for barbecues and fairs in the summer. They sit underneath a tree Evan stopped to take a photo of. The sun’s behind them, turning everything gold and hazy.

“We used to come here when I was younger,” Connor says. “  
“It’s lovely,” Evan says. “It’s peaceful.”

It is, actually – it’s the kind of place Connor would have liked to have when everything was awful – it’s still and it quiets the dim roar in his head. He feels like they’re miles away from everyone else.  
“Where Jared used to live,” Evan says, softly. “There was this – they were gonna make a park but then they ran out of money so for years it was just this big open space behind his house. I don’t know if he even remembers, we used to build forts and stuff when we were kids. Then they got money and they finished the park, but I preferred it like – like this, just the space and the trees. They had dog walkers sometimes – I don’t know if you mind dogs? They kind of scare me a bit, they’re unpredictable and loud, I’m sorry, I know most people are dog people but I just.”

He trails off. Connor smiles at him, to let him know he’s just not really up for talking quite yet. Evan settles back against the tree and tilts his head up to the sky.

“If I get into college, I don’t know if my mom can afford it,” he says, after a while. He’s still not looking at Connor, busying himself with trying to scrape off some mud from the bottom of his khakis.   
“Oh,” says Connor. “What would you do if she can’t?”  
“I don’t know,” Evan says. “Community college, I guess.”  
“Do you not want to do that?”  
“I don’t know,” Evan says. “Have you decided what you want to do?”  
“Apply next year,” Connor says. “I guess. I’m sorry, Evan, that’s – ”  
“It’s fine,” Evan says, shrugging. “I mean. I always kind of guessed. I’m glad my mom’s actually told me.” He shifts. “I don’t know, she tries to keep things from me. I know she’s only doing it because she thinks it’s for the best but it just feels like she doesn’t trust me and it makes everything awful, thinking that she’s having to put up with stuff on her own because I’m such a burden and she’s not very subtle so I normally work things out but I can’t tell her I know because she’s going to such efforts to protect me from them.” He spreads his hand out in the grass, palm down, his pinky pushing at a buttercup. “You know?”  
“Yeah,” Connor says.  
“I mean, I love her, and I know I’m lucky that we have a good relationship – ” Evan pulls a face at Connor, slightly apologetic. “But.”  
“People do things that annoy you,” Connor says. “It doesn’t change how you feel about them normally.”

Evan tilts his head, smiling. “How are you so wise?”

Connor snorts. “ _Wise_? Wow, I’m telling Zoe that one.”  
“Shut up,” Evan says, nudging into him with his shoulder. “You know what I mean, you always know what to say.”  
“I know what to say to you, maybe. I dunno, maybe it’s, like, you stop wanting to die and everything gets put into perspective.”

There’s a pause and then Evan’s t-shirt rustling against the tree behind them – that’s the only warning Connor gets before Evan puts his arms around Connor’s shoulders and hugs him, tight. He doesn’t say anything, just holds on.

Connor doesn’t think he’ll stop being surprised by Evan’s willingness to touch him – Evan Hansen, who shies away from most physical contact, won’t _stop_ touching Connor, hugging him – _kissing him_ – and Connor doesn’t really want him to. He’s not entirely sure when that happened. Evan _believes_ in Connor and Connor doesn’t think he’ll ever stop being surprised by that, either.

“How long have you and Kleinman known each other, then?” he asks, when Evan’s sat back, his hands beneath his knees and his eyes fixed on the sky.   
“Oh, for ages,” Evan says, smiling slightly. “His mom and my mom work at the same hospital, so.”   
“So, were you closer during middle school or something?”  
“Yeah,” Evan says. His smile falters. “I think it started being really uncool to have me as a friend so we stopped talking as much. He’s always been there for me, though. On Skype and stuff. And, if I ever had a panic attack during school, we had a system, I’d text him SOS and he’d get a hall pass and come find me. Teachers love him, so it was always easy for him. That was nice of him.”  
“Yeah,” Connor agrees.

Evan sinks down until he’s lying in the grass and he pats the space next to him so Connor shuffles over until they’re lying side by side and their hands are almost touching.

“Tell me something cool about trees,” Connor says, to the sun. Evan laughs. Connor can feel it, the vibrations through his arm and into his chest, settling there, warm and good.  
“The tallest tree in the world is 379.7 feet tall,” he says. “It’s in California. I really want to see it someday.”  
“California’s not so far away,” Connor says.  
“No,” says Evan. “No, not so far.”

After a while, he turns his hand over so his palm is turned up and Connor takes it, locks their fingers together and they stay there in the quiet. 

* * *

 

On Saturday, Evan comes round after breakfast.

Connor was not expecting it – he’s doing the dishes when Zoe walks in and says,  
“Evan’s here.”  
“Hi,” he says, elbow-deep in soapy water. “Um.”

He has a sudden, very acute sense that Zoe _knows_.

Then he realises that’s ridiculous –he hasn’t said anything, and Evan hasn’t either, and – there isn’t anything to know – unless she’d gone through his phone, but he’s still changing his passcode every two weeks because Larry and Cynthia haven’t quite kicked the habit of invading his privacy yet and –

“Hey, sorry I didn’t – um, I got you a birthday present and then I thought it was weird so I thought I’d give it to you without Jared watching but I think I’ve made it – weirder, sorry.”  
“I’m gonna go,” Zoe says, patting Evan’s arm as she passes. She flicks her eyebrows up at Connor as she leaves.

She doesn’t know.

Connor dries his hands and tugs his sleeves back down before coming to join Evan by the kitchen table.  
“You didn’t have to,” he says, awkwardly.  
“Oh, I know, but I wanted to,” Evan says, pink. “It’s probably a really – bad idea, I’m sorry.”

It’s wrapped in yellow wrapping paper – _It’s all we had, I’m sorry, it’s weird, it was for my mom’s friend’s daughter’s christening –_ and inside is a sketchbook.

“It’s really weird,” Evan whispers. He has his hands over his face, peeking through the gaps in his fingers.   
“It’s not weird,” Connor says. Something warm has settled in the pit of his stomach, kind of like when Evan called him _beautiful._  
“It’s ‘cos you’re always doodling on your homework and Zoe said you used to really like art and I thought maybe if you had somewhere to draw you’d get back into it, and I know how much writing has helped me with my anxiety and I thought maybe a creative outlet is a good idea but it’s really, I’m really sorry – ”  
“Evan,” Connor says. “It’s really not weird. It’s – um, it’s really nice of you. I really like it, thank you.”

It’s one of the nicest things anyone’s ever given him, because Evan thought about it and he knew things about Connor that Connor didn’t even remember telling him and he wants Connor to get better and.

“Oh, Evan! I didn’t know you were here!” Cynthia bustles into the room with a basket of laundry on her hip. “Are you guys going out soon?”  
“Yes,” Connor says, making a face at Evan when she’s set the basket down and gone to fill the kettle.   
“Do you want anything to eat?”  
“No.”  
“Alright,” she says. “I’m clearly interrupting something.”  
“No you’re not,” Connor says. He tries to shuffle the sketchbook behind him as he stands up so she won’t see and make it into a big thing because if it’s a _thing_ then he’ll ruin it.

He manages to get Evan up to his room without Larry seeing him, but then he doesn’t have a door to shut them all out so. It was probably a wasted effort, really.

He sits on his bed and Evan sits on his desk chair and swings himself slowly round and Connor scrapes the side of his finger against the pages of the sketchbook and they keep making eye contact and smiling, awkwardly.

Connor really wants to kiss him again.

“Have you read all those?” Evan says. He’s looking at Connor’s bookshelves.  
“Uh,” Connor says. “Yeah, most of them. Um. Not those – the ones by Hemingway? I kinda got bored but they’re Larry’s old copies, so I can’t throw them out. I mean I tried but he got pissed.”  
“Right,” Evan says. “We did The Old Man and the Sea last year?”  
“In English?” Connor says. “Yeah, we did too. I didn’t finish it.”  
“I kinda liked it,” Evan says. Connor shrugs. “You’ve read a lot.”  
“Yeah I didn’t really have anything else to do. And – hah, you should try reading high? It’s – like, the words _move,_ it’s fucking. It’s a trip.”  
“Yeah,” Evan says. He glances up and smiles at Connor, kind of nervously, and his eyes trip down to Connor’s mouth and.

Connor really misses his door.

Zoe appears, resting against Connor’s doorway to tug on her Converse. She looks between them.  
“Oh-kay,” she says. “Come on, ‘Lana wants me to pick up some Coke on the way.” 

* * *

 

“You gave him his present _in private_ ,” Jared says, later, sprawled out across the picnic rug with his head on his jacket, balled up. “I’m just _saying_ , Evan, it sounds like a blowjob.”  
“I didn’t give him a blowjob!” Evan shrieks and a young mother pushing a pram on the path next to them gives him a dirty look. Connor flips her off; Zoe smacks his hand down. “I didn’t – _Jared_.”  
“He’s just trying to make you mad,” Alana says, patiently. “Hummus?”  
“Who brings hummus to a picnic,” Jared says. Alana flicks his temple.   
“People who like hummus, Kleinman.”  
“Yeah, fuck you,” Connor says, although he doesn’t like hummus. He pushes himself to his feet. “I’m going for a walk, Evan, wanna come?”  
“Are you two secretly banging, for real though?” Jared demands as Evan scrambles up after him. Connor flips him off. “ _Evan,_ can I be best man at your – Ouch, Zo!”

They follow the path down towards the little lake where Connor and Zoe used to float boats in the summer. Connor tells Evan that and Evan makes an aborted movement with his hand like he wants to take Connor’s but thought better of it so Connor reaches over and links their fingers together. Evan’s hands are a little sweaty but Connor thinks his are too and it’s okay, really, it’s proof that it’s real, that someone like Evan Hansen wants someone like Connor Murphy.

“What’s that, then?” he says, pointing at a tree with their joined hands. Evan laughs.  
“That’s an oak.”  
“How d’you know?”  
“You can tell by the shape of the leaves and also ‘cos I did a nature trail once here, when I was a kid, and, um, it said on the pack? Most of the trees here are oaks. So.”  
“Hey, come with me.”

They have to walk through some bushes to get there – it’s a tree, low and wide branches and Connor used to climb it to get high when he was sixteen.

They sit on one of the branches as high up as Evan wants to go and he sits with his back to the trunk and says,  
“This is a nice tree. A good tree.”  
“A good tree,” Connor repeats, grinning at him.  
“A _good_ tree.”  
“I used to sit here and get high,” Connor says. Evan’s mouth twists.  
“That’s hardly the tree’s fault.”  
“I’ve been clean for two months,” Connor says.

Evan’s eyes get big. “Connor! That’s amazing! You didn’t say – ”  
“Yeah, well I didn’t want to tell anyone if I thought I was just gonna fail, but. I don’t know.”  
“I’m proud of you,” Evan tells him, flushing.   
“Okay, let’s not get sappy.”

Evan rolls his eyes and Connor leans forward and kisses him. Evan slides one arm up around his shoulders and then leans back to say,  
“Oh – happy birthday for tomorrow, I forgot to say that earlier – ”  
“Oh my God.”

When they get back to the others, Zoe and Jared have gone off to play Frisbee and Alana’s lying on the picnic rug with _Pride and Prejudice._ She pushes her glasses up her nose as Connor and Evan drop down next to her.  
“Thought you two had gotten lost,” she says.   
“Nope,” Connor says. “Haven’t you read that before?”  
“Yes, three times, it’s my favourite book.”  
“Cool,” says Connor. Zoe jogs up, doubling heavily over Evan’s shoulders when she reaches them –   
“Come and play.”  
“You can’t play Frisbee with three people.”  
“What dumbass rules are you playing Frisbee by? Of course you can, come on, come on.”

Evan sends Connor a look, faintly long-suffering, as Zoe drags him up and over to where Jared is doing some – weird stretching-lunging thing. Connor laughs, watching them for a while until Alana clears her throat. Then he turns to her.  
“What?”  
“Do you like him?” she asks.  
“Fuck off,” he says.  
“Come on,” she says. “What’s happening there?”

He catches himself expecting her to start laughing, or telling him that he shouldn’t even _try_ – but it’s Alana, and she’s smiling, honest and open and, okay, maybe she really does just want to talk.

“We’re just friends,” he says.  
“Really?”  
“Yes!”  
“Okay,” she says, sceptically. She reaches behind her for the chips and offers him the bag. “What was with all those weird texts you sent me on Sunday, then?”  
“Oh my God, don’t _fucking_ ask? Do you actually know what that means?”  
“Jeez,” she says. “You’re touchy. Okay, okay, I won’t ask!”  
“Thanks,” he mutters.

They watch Zoe tackle Jared to the ground. Connor doesn’t think any of them really know how to play Frisbee, which is – well, Larry and Zoe used to go off and play it when Cynthia forced them all out together in the summer. Connor suspects that they just wanted to get away from him.

“So why aren’t you playing Frisbee?” Alana asks. Connor blinks at her.  
“Do I look like the sort of person who willingly participates in sports?”  
“Frisbee is barely a sport.”  
“It’s sporty enough,” Connor says, darkly. He has been permanently put off any kind of athletic endeavour by years of dodgeball, which turned out to be less dodgeball and more everyone-else-aim-at-Connor-ball.  
“I hate gym,” Alana says. “I think gym is what I’m gonna miss least.”  
“You’re gonna miss stuff?”  
“Sure,” Alana says. “The teachers. Mr Cowell, Ms Bee. The library.”  
“Nerd.”  
“Janet – you know, the dinnerlady? She always gives me extra servings.”  
“Why would you want extra servings?”  
“You guys,” Alana says. She grins at Connor. “Not so much the constant, unnecessary interruptions though.”  
“Ha ha.”  
“You really aren’t going to miss anything?”  
“Nope,” Connor says. When he started high school, his mom gave him one of those four year planners and he just used it to cross off the days until graduation. Then he stopped thinking about _graduation_ as the end and started thinking about suicide. He doesn’t know what happened to the planner, actually.   
“Hey,” Alana says, nudging him with her toe. “You okay?”  
“What?”  
“You just kind of.” She waves a hand across her face. “Blanked out? _Staring_ at Evan.”  
“Fuck off,” he says, shoving her shoulder. “I wasn’t – staring – ”

She laughs. “Hey, you’ll come visit me next year, won’t you?”  
“Uh,” Connor says.   
“I want you to,” she continues. “Y’know. I know we haven’t been friends for that long but I really value our relationship, I think you’ve helped me grow as a person and be more comfortable with who I am.”  
“I _am_ an _excellent_ person to measure yourself against.”  
“I don’t want you to feel like I won’t want to be friends with you when I go to Princeton.”

Connor doesn’t say anything. Eventually, she nudges him with her foot again.

“Okay,” he says.  
“That’s not an answer,” she says. “I’m glad we’re friends.”  
“Me too,” he says, and she smiles at him and drops it. 

* * *

 

**From: Alana.Beck**

Two things:

1 - Ms Bee wants us to host an assembly for Mental Health Awareness Month

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Great!

**From: Evan_Hansen**

Yeah that’s good :)

**From: Alana.Beck**

Are we all on board then?

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Yeah I guess that could be a good idea

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

It IS a good idea!

**From: Alana.Beck**

What do we want to say? What do we want it to be about?

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

Maybe idk mental health awareness?

**From: Alana.Beck**

Okay… There is an obvious opening…

**From: Connor_Murphy**

I am not going up there and talking about my feelings to a bunch of teenagers who call me a freak behind my back

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

Hey that’s not fair

Some of them do it 2 ur face!

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Self pity is a bad look on you

& shut up Jared

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

*Evan voice* Everything’s a good look on you Connor xoxo

**From: Evan_Hansen**

Shut up Jared

Of course you don’t have to speak Connor

**From: Alana.Beck**

Of course not I wasn’t even suggesting that

I’m just saying

We created the support group because of what happened in September. Maybe we should address the issue of teen suicides. But not if that’s going to be a trigger for you.

**From: Connor_Murphy**

How do you mean address

**From: Alana.Beck**

I don’t know I haven’t decided yet

I can write a speech and you can approve it

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Ok…

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

So do the rest of us get a say or?

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Do you object?

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

No I was just wondering

**From: Evan_Hansen**

What’s the second thing Alana?

**From: Alana.Beck**

What are we doing for prom?

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

Lets rent a limo

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

No

**From: Connor_Murphy**

I’m not going

**From: Alana.Beck**

Are you serious?

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

Do u hate fun and happiness?

4 real?

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Yes I do what gave it away

**From: Alana.Beck**

You can’t skip prom

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

97% sure its illegal lol

**From: Connor_Murphy**

You know when I said it was a bad idea for me to go to that stupid party and then you all said I had to?

**From: Alana.Beck**

Okay

* * *

 

 On Wednesday, he and Evan go back to Evan’s after school to work on homework which doesn’t go so well because they end up making out on Evan’s bed until his mom gets home and Connor realises he accidentally missed his curfew which explains why his phone was ringing half an hour ago.

“Oh, hey, hon, I didn’t realise you were here,” Heidi says, appearing round the doorframe. She doesn’t seem surprised to see Connor sat on her son’s bed or question why Evan is bright red and hiding behind his textbook but Evan does weird things quite a lot so maybe she’s used to it. “Are you staying for dinner?”  
“Uh,” says Connor, trying not to be rude and check his phone at the same time.  
“Ask your mom if it’s okay, you’re always welcome,” she says. “Evan, can I talk to you for a minute?”

Evan makes a face at Connor as he scrambles off the bed and follows his mom out into the hall. Connor can hear their footsteps going downstairs and then a door shutting. He really doesn’t want to have gotten Evan in trouble.

**Two missed calls: Cynthia Murphy**

**From: Zoe**

I told mom I forgot to tell her you’re round at Evans so you OWE ME

Try and eat before coming back mom thinks you’re having dinner there

**To: Cynthia Murphy**

I was doing im alive its fine im with evan

**To: Zoe**

Thanks

 

Then Evan’s come back into the room, flushed.  
“What happened?”  
“I got into college,” Evan says.   
“ _What_?”  
“I got in – My first choice, the letter just – ”  
“Fucking hell, _Evan_!”  
“I’m, um. I can’t? Believe it?”  
“I can! Evan!” He punches Evan’s arm as gently as he can.   
“Um,” says Evan, and then he launches himself across the room and kisses Connor hard, pushing him back against the pillows. “I got into college?”  
“Yeah you did!”  
“I’m going to college – oh, my God, I’m going to college, I can’t go to college – ”  
“Hey, freak out later, you get to enjoy this, you worked for it.”

Evan blinks up at him, swallowing.   
“I did work for it,” he says, slowly. “Yeah.”  
“You should be proud of yourself.”

Evan makes a face.

“Or I can be proud of you for you,” Connor continues. Evan goes red and shoves him, lightly.   
“I want to tell the others,” he says, and then he kisses Connor again, tugging him closer. Connor’s very okay with that but Heidi’s downstairs and they haven’t talked about whether they want their parents to know yet, so it’s probably a good thing when Evan sits back and reaches for his phone. He tucks himself under Connor’s arm to type out a message.

**From: Evan_Hansen**

I got into college

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

EVAN!!!!

I’M SO PROUD OF YOU

**From: Alana.Beck**

Evan that’s so so good well done!!

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

Lol Evan there was never any doubt u would

But congrats man

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

<3 <3 <3

You deserve this so much Ev

**From: Evan_Hansen**

Also I’m bi

 

Okay, that was unexpected. Connor looks up from where he’s been reading over Evan’s shoulder –   
“I was gonna tell them soon anyway,” Evan says, red-faced. “And I’m happy? Right now, so?”

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

all of u owe me money

**From: Alana.Beck**

None of us took you up on that bet Jared because betting on your friends’ sexualities is weird

Thanks for telling us Evan

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

I’m so proud of you you’ve grown so much in a few months and I feel so privileged to know you

All of you tbh

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

G a y

ALL OF US ARE GAY!!!

THIS IS A BLESSED CHAT

 

Evan puts his phone down and puts his arms back round Connor’s neck and kisses him until Heidi calls them down for dinner. Then he keeps hold of Connor’s hand even though that means they both have to eat one handed but Heidi doesn’t say anything if she notices. 

* * *

 

On Friday, they go to get coffee – hot chocolate – and Connor thinks this might be a date except neither of them have said it is and he doesn’t want to be the one who asks.

It’s nice though, whatever it is. They go for a walk and they hold hands again and they talk about loads of little things – the new video game Jared is begging them to come and play with him, Zoe’s ongoing feud with their parents to let her get another piercing, the new song Evan really likes and thinks Connor might too, the book Connor found beneath his bed the other day – it used to be his favourite and he’s rereading it and it’s weird, it brings back so many memories – school, graduation, college.

“What if they all hate me?” Evan says, as they wander round the duck pond.  
“They won’t hate you,” Connor says. “If they do, I’ll punch them. All. Collectively.”  
“But you won’t be there,” Evan says and then he winces, moves closer. “I mean – I want you there, obviously, but you can’t spend all your time punching people who hate me.”  
“I’d never punch anyone.”  
“It took me all of high school to make friends,” Evan says. “I don’t wanna be – a friendless loser again.”  
“You won’t be. You’ll still have all of us, even if we don’t see each other every day. Right?”  
“What if you get bored of me.”  
“Why would I get bored with you?”  
“Because you’re you and I’m – And you won’t see me and you’ll forget about me – ”  
“I’ve had object permanence for, like, seventeen years, Evan, I’m not gonna forget about you just ‘cos you leave the room.”  
“But you could get a better offer.”  
“It’s very unlikely Hugh Jackman’s gonna walk into my room while you’re gone.”  
“But if he _did._ ”  
“I’d still want you,” Connor says, staring fixedly across the pond. He hears Evan’s breath catch.

They walk on in silence for a bit while Connor tries to stop blushing but Evan sounds a little further from panicking now, so it’s a good thing, really.

“Are we dating?” he asks, as they turn onto the path towards Connor’s house.  
“Us?”  
“Yeah.”  
“I’d like to. If you want to.”  
“I’d like to. I’d like to tell my mom, if that’s okay with you.”  
“It’s okay with me,” Connor says. “But I can’t tell my parents.”  
“Okay.”  
“And – um, not Zoe either. So, we can’t tell Alana or Jared. I’m sorry.”  
“That’s alright,” Evan says. They drop their cups in a bin as they pass it and then Evan wipes his other hand on his jeans and says, “um, is it ‘cos you’re embarrassed of me?”  
“Oh my God, _Evan no_?”  
“Okay,” Evan says, frowning.   
“It’s not! God, okay. Um, Zoe doesn’t want me to date you.”  
“What do you mean? She doesn’t like me?”  
“She adores you, that’s why she doesn’t want me to date you.”

He’s still frowning. It’s – Connor tries to remember that it’s good, that Evan feels safe enough to ask these questions and not bottle them up until he explodes. He tries.

“Look, before – for years, I was really. _Really_ awful to her. I mean, I did really bad things, I don’t remember a lot of them, I was. You know, I was struggling and I wasn’t getting any help and my parents made me so angry and I took a lot of it out on her. I, um.”

Evan squeezes his hand, gently.

“I don’t really want to tell you, I’m sorry – It’s between me and her and she’s been a lot better to me than anybody else would have been, if I’d put them through what I put her through. I was awful to her, I’m not being self-pitying or anything. You need to understand – I was _horrible_.”  
“Okay,” Evan says.   
“No it’s not,” Connor says. “She thinks I’m gonna hurt you.”  
“Are you?”  
“Maybe,” says Connor. “But I really don’t want to.”  
“Then it’s okay,” says Evan. “I trust you.”  
“You shouldn’t.”  
“I do. And you said it yourself – you _were_ horrible and you were struggling through a lot. I’m not saying that whatever you did to Zoe was okay.”  
“It wasn’t.”  
“Okay. But I trust you. You’ve never been anything but good to me.”  
“That’s not true.”  
“Okay, you’ve mostly been good to me.”

He stops on the path, tugging Connor off onto the grass to rock up on tiptoe and kiss him, gently.

“If it’s too much, I still wanna be your friend,” he says.  
“I like you.”  
“I like you too,” Evan says, dimpling.  
“Okay,” says Connor. “Good.”  
“Good?”  
“Yes. What am I supposed to say?”  
“I don’t know,” Evan admits, smiling. “Good works, I guess.”  
"Thank you?"  
"That works too," Evan says. Connor kisses him. Evan's hand kind of - flutters by his arm before he grips it, around Connor's elbow, his fingers bunching in the fabric of his hoodie. "So does that," he says, when they've stopped. "I like that one best."

Connor laughs. The anxious butterflies in his stomach have started to settle. They usually do, or Evan does something to distract Connor from them like - move slightly, because Connor  _really likes him._ It's - It's good, he thinks. 

* * *

 

**From: Alana Beck**

Are you really not coming to prom?

**To: Alana Beck**

Wow you really don’t know when to let things go huh?

**From: Alana Beck**

Don’t you want at least one good memory from school?

**To: Alana Beck**

I’m gonna have one good memory from school

Leaving it

**From: Alana Beck**

Okay

* * *

 

 On Sunday morning, he walks past Zoe’s room and sees Evan, sat at her desk. He’s talking to Zoe, inside the room and he hasn’t noticed Connor yet – he ducks his head laughing at a joke Connor missed and then turns round to the desk to pick up a pen and change – something.

When he looks up, he says,  
“Hi!”  
“Hi?” Zoe, inside the room. Her bed creaks and then she appears at the door. “So, you’re lurking, now?”  
“Not lurking, I just didn’t realise Evan was here.”  
“Well, I texted you.”  
“My phone’s dead.”  
“It’s your fault then, isn’t it?” she says, eyebrow raised. “We’re working on a speech for Alana’s assembly. Do you want to hear it?”  
“No!” says Evan, from behind her. They both turn to him, surprised – he coughs. “Um – not that I don’t want you to hear it, but it’s not very good yet and it’s important to me that you hear it – when I’ve finished it, I’m sorry, do you mind?”  
“No,” Connor says, slowly. He’s a little surprised to find that he doesn’t mind at all. “As long as this means I don’t have to team up with Kleinman.”  
“Ha ha,” Evan says. “No, he’s doing the graphics so – ”  
“You wouldn’t be any help at all,” Zoe finishes, for him. Evan makes a face, slightly apologetic. Connor shrugs.  
“Okay, I’m gonna get breakfast.”

When he comes back upstairs, Zoe has shut her door but Connor still doesn’t mind. He can hear Evan laughing through the wall – it’s nice, it’s comforting. He eats at his desk, waiting for his phone to turn on.

 

**From: Evan Hansen**

Just letting you know Zoe invited me over to work on something for Alana

**From: Zoe**

Just letting you know Evans here so don’t freak out if you see him wandering round the house lol

**From: Jared Kleinman**

[attached: kermit_meme]

Is this what its like inside ur head?

**To: Jared Kleinman**

Fuck you

**From: Jared Kleinman**

U WISH

 

He ends up leaving before Evan – for therapy. His mom is in a good mood – she hums along to the radio and suggests they go to the garden center once he’s done.

Dr West goes through the usual steps – how his week has been, what he wants to accomplish next week. Then she lets him direct the conversation onto whatever he thinks he needs to talk about and –   
“If I tell you something,” Connor says. “You don’t tell my parents, right?”  
“Right,” Dr West says.   
“Okay,” Connor says. He still has his paper cup from the water dispenser in the waiting room. He uncurls the rim and unpeels it into one long belt and then he says, “I’m – right, so I’m gay?”  
“Okay.”  
“My parents don’t know,” he says. Dr West nods.  
“Do you think they’d react badly?”  
“I don’t know. I think Larry would. My sister knows. She’s – I guess that doesn’t matter. She found out ‘cos, um, someone at school found out and told everyone and, yeah, that was like two years ago.” He rolls the paper back up, like he’s making a cigarette, and then he thinks that’s probably weird and she’s probably writing it down but she’s put her pen on the table and she’s waiting for him to continue, patiently. “There’s this – There’s a guy. It – I like him a lot. And he – Um, we went on a date and he said he wants to tell his mom about me? He – He has anxiety, like – Pretty badly, but I kind of. I think he’s doing a lot better than I am.”  
“You can’t compare progress,” Dr West says, gently.  
“Yeah – I know, but I feel like I might drag him down.”  
“You’re not a weight to be carried.”  
“Yeah, sure,” Connor says. “But I kind of am. I mean – he’s going to college and he’s getting a job and I’m. I mean, six months ago I wanted to kill myself.”  
“You’re both working from different points,” Dr West says. “And these things can take time. The improvement you’ve made in six months is nothing to be ashamed of.”  
“We have this friend. Um, he said that he – the guy – only liked me because he has a, uh, saving people kink.”  
“Alright,” Dr West says. “Do you think this is true?”

Connor considers it, straightening out the paper again. “No,” he says. “But I’m – I’m scared it might be.”  
“That’s the kind of question it’s important to ask your partner.”  
“What if it is true, though? I don’t want to be pitied.”  
“There’s a difference between wanting to help someone and pitying them. He has anxiety?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Do you pity him?”  
“Well – I feel bad for him, but I don’t. Like. Think any less of him for it.”  
“Do you want to help him?”  
“Yeah.”  
“You see? That’s the framework for a healthy relationship. It’s good for you to support and be there for each other, but not to take on so much of each other that you become indistinguishable.”  
“I think I’m gonna be really bad at liking people.”  
“Why?”  
“I don’t have much practice. And most of my emotional responses are still kind of fucked up. Sorry,” he adds, because Dr West has never actually reprimanded him for swearing but she seems like the kind of person who might mind it. She lets it pass with a smile, shaking her head.   
“Alright, I think it’s important that you stop thinking about your relationships in terms of what you can’t offer. Try thinking why they’re important to you, and why you’re important to them.”

Connor stares at her.

She smiles again. “I know it might seem difficult at first but it can be very helpful.”

She lets him go a few minutes after that. Cynthia is reading a magazine by the receptionists’ desk. She stands up when she sees him, dusting off the back of her skirt. She takes his arm as they leave.

“Garden center sound okay?” she asks, when they’re back in the car. Connor doesn’t really want to go to the garden center, but – okay. Maybe it can count as bonding. 

* * *

 

**From: Evan Hansen**

Im so sorry can you come over please

**To: Evan Hansen**

Yeah of course

Why?

are you okay

**From: Evan Hansen**

Yeah im fine

Im just stressing??

**To: Evan Hansen**

Ok stay there ill be there in 10

His mom is entertaining in the family room – Connor thinks he saw Mrs Harris’s car outside so he just shouts,  
“I’m going out,” as he leaves.

He makes it to Evan’s in eleven minutes which he’s a little proud of – it usually takes Zoe fifteen, but she actually observes the speed limit. Evan answers the door and drags Connor up to his room immediately.  
“You okay?” Connor asks, when the door’s shut behind them. He misses his door. He’s starting to think Larry’s cut it up for firewood or something equally stupid as a display of manliness or something.  
“Yeah,” Evan says, sinking onto his bed. “I just – I was gonna tell my mom, I was gonna tell her I’m – bisexual, and I just – I just – ”  
“Panicked?” Connor says, joining him on the bed. “That’s okay. You know you don’t have to tell her until you’re ready.”  
“It’s just,” Evan says, leaning forward until his forehead’s on Connor’s shoulder. “I know she’ll be okay with it and I _still freaked out_.” He drops his voice to a whisper, one hand fisting in the duvet. “I hate it, I hate it so much. I know it’s always gonna be like this and I – hate it.”

Connor does not really know what to say to that. His mom goes on about how it will _get better_ but from Connor’s experience it doesn’t get _better,_ it just gets less shit, but that’s not exactly comforting.   
“You’re doing so much better,” he says, instead. “Hey, think about where you were a year ago. You’ve done all this, and you do it so well. You’re going to college – ”  
“No I’m not,” says Evan, sitting back up. He brushes under his eyes impatiently.  
“What?”  
“I’m not. Not this year.”  
“Why?”  
“I deferred entrance. I – we can’t afford it. I’m gonna get a job and, I don’t know, enter more of those scholarship essay competitions – me and my mom talked about last night.”  
“Oh,” says Connor. “Is that what – brought this on?”  
“I don’t think so,” Evan says, considering it. “I think it’s the right thing to do and honestly, I feel like a massive pressure’s been taken off me, a year out of school will be good for me, I think. I just. Y’know, I was planning what I’d say to her, to come out to her, and I just started thinking she’s going to hate me, she’s going to hate me, she’ll throw me out and then I’ll have to be homeless or maybe Alana will adopt me, I don’t know but I don’t want to live in Alana’s house because her dad scares me, and then I got mad at myself for worrying about living with Alana when I know my mom’s not going to throw me out and it would be really kind of Alana’s family to take me in if she did and then I kind of. Spiralled.”  
“It gets pretty loud in that head of yours, huh?”  
“Pretty loud, yeah,” Evan says. He tucks his hands beneath his knees.   
“Are you worried your mom’s gonna hate me?”  
“No!” Evan says, so loudly he seems to startle himself. “No, God, Connor, she _loves_ you. I’m sorry, I didn’t even _think_ – I shouldn’t have asked – ”  
“No, hey – hey, calm down, it’s fine, I was just asking.”  
“She loves you, I promise.”  
“Okay.”  
“Maybe I don’t tell her today.”  
“Okay.”  
“But today would have been perfect because she’ll be back by six and normally she’s back too late to have a proper conversation because she’s tired but she’d want to have a proper conversation and I can’t wait another month, unless I do it on Sunday but it’s Jared’s mom’s birthday on Sunday and I think she’s going out with them and I don’t want her to be worried about me and not go – ”  
“Pretend I’m your mom,” Connor says, turning so they’re facing each other, knees touching. “And come out to me.”

Evan squints at him. “You don’t look anything like my mom.”  
“ _Pretend_.”  
“It’s hard, I have very different feelings for you and my mom, oh my God.” He buries his face in his hands as Connor laughs.   
“Okay, I’ll pretend you’re my mom and I’ll come out to you and then we can work out what you want to say to Heidi. Okay?”  
“Okay,” says Evan, into his hands.  
“Okay,” says Connor. “Hi, mom – Evan, stop laughing. Hi mom, I’m gay. No, it’s not because I didn’t have a strong male role model, although I didn’t, fucking Larry, it’s just that people are born this way, no, mom I’m not saying you turned me gay, and the meds didn’t either, I just am, also I’m dating Evan, which is probably kind of weird for you because you seem to think Evan is your surrogate son and maybe you think of us as brothers but it’s not a weird thing unless you think about it like that.”

Evan stares at him.

“That’s the worst coming out speech I’ve ever heard,” he says.   
“Okay, so we have a template of what not to say.”  
“Would your parents really be mad?”  
“I don’t know,” Connor says. “This isn’t about my parents, it’s about _your_ parent.”  
“Yeah, but would they be mad?”  
“My mom might be okay with it but Larry won’t be.”  
“How do you know?”  
“He’s Larry. He’ll see it as a personal insult. Come on, Evan, what do we say to Heidi?”  
“Um,” Evan says. “Okay. I want to tell her I’m bisexual, that I’ve known I was bisexual for – maybe a year, and maybe I should explain what that means? I mean, she might know – I don’t want to insult her – ”  
“Explain what that means,” Connor says. “To be safe.”  
“Okay,” Evan says. “Okay, um, so that means I like boys and girls but at the minute I like this one particular boy – that’s you.”  
“Thanks.”  
“And we’re – are we dating?”  
“Yes.”  
“Cool,” says Evan, beaming. “And we’re dating and – Is there anything else I need to say?”  
“Is there anything else you want to say?”  
“I’m bi, I’ve known for a year, that means I like boys and girls, I like you the most, we’re dating, I hope she’s okay with it, I really, really hope she’s okay with it. Oh – and she can’t tell anyone, because you don’t want your parents to find out and she might tell Jared’s mom who would tell Jared who would get mad at me for not telling _him_ and he’d say something on the group and then Alana and Zoe would know and if Zoe knows, your parents will find out.”  
“Good addition.”

Evan sighs. “Okay.” He palms his phone off the bedside cabinet to check the time. “We’ve got – like, forty minutes before she gets home.”

They start answering emails Alana sent over from the blog but they get a bit distracted halfway through the second one – a girl who wants to tell her boyfriend about her anxiety but doesn’t know how to word it.  
“Can I ask you something?” Connor says, sitting back. Evan drops his biro.  
“Sure.”  
“Um. Okay, so Jared said you have a – a saving people kink,” Connor says. Evan frowns.  
“A what?”  
“He said – he, okay so Zoe asked him if you had a crush on anyone and he said he thought you might like me because you have a saving people kink.”

Evan is still frowning. “You told Jared about us? Or Zoe?”  
“No – this was before, any of it. None of them know, she just – she guessed that I liked you and she was trying to set me up, I don’t know, but he said – ”  
“Saving people kink? What does that mean?”  
“Like,” Connor says. He wishes he hadn’t brought it up. “Like you only like me because you think you can fix me.”

Evan’s eyes get big. “He said that to you?”  
“No, to Zoe, but is it true?”  
“Of course not. I don’t think you need fixing. I want you to get better but that’s different. I don’t think you need saving. And I know that it’s easy to pin your hopes on people but I don’t think that’s healthy, I don’t want to _save_ you, I just wanna – be there with you.” He pauses. “I think you’re fine, just you, Connor Murphy. I like you for you not ‘cos I want to save you. Is that okay?”  
“That’s okay,” Connor says.

Evan leans over and kisses him, softly, and ten minutes later, the front door closes and Heidi says,  
“ _Hello_?”

And Evan pushes Connor off the bed.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” he says. Connor’s laughing, behind his hand to muffle the sound.   
“It’s okay, it’s fine,” he says, picking himself off the floor. “I’m gonna go?”  
“I’m so sorry!” Evan says, his hand over his mouth.

Heidi puts her head around the door. “There you are. Hey Connor.”  
“Hi Ms – Heidi.”  
“You staying for dinner, hon?”  
“Oh – no, I should get back.”   
“We were doing homework,” Evan says, loudly. Heidi gives him a look. Connor tries to subtly elbow him as he passes, to get him to shut up and stop making it worse for himself.

* * *

 

  **From: Evan Hansen**

I’m so sorry!!! I did not mean to push you off the bed!

**To: Evan Hansen**

It’s fine Evan dw

**From: Evan Hansen**

Did you get home okay?

**To: Evan Hansen**

Yeah :)

**From: Evan Hansen**

I told my mom

**To: Evan Hansen**

Howd it go?

**From: Evan Hansen**

Really well :)

She said she was glad I told her and she was proud of me for trying to find my happiness!

**To: Evan Hansen**

That’s really nice

**From: Evan Hansen**

She wants you to come round for dinner though sorry

**To: Evan Hansen**

Why?

**From: Evan Hansen**

I don’t know, so she can ‘remeet’ you as my boyfriend (is that okay?) apparently…

**To: Evan Hansen**

That’s ok :)

Ok when do you want me to come over then?

**From: Evan Hansen**

I don’t know she works a lot

**To: Evan Hansen**

Ok ask her?

**From: Evan Hansen**

Tuesday okay?

**To: Evan Hansen**

This Tuesday?

Yeah 

* * *

 

Heidi answers the door when Connor rings the bell on Tuesday.

“Hey hon,” she says, stepping back. “Evan had to run down to the supermarket.”  
“Oh,” says Connor. “I can – come back, if – ”  
“No, don’t be silly. Hey, come in, I wanted to have a conversation with you anyway.”

_Fuck._

“Okay,” he says.   
“Do you want a drink?” she asks, leading him into the family room.  
“No thank you,” he says. She takes the armchair so he sits awkwardly on the couch. She’s always been so kind to him. Maybe she thinks he’s taken advantage of her – and of Evan, _fuck,_ because who would want a suicidal addict dating their only son.

“Y’know, the first time I heard your name, I was so happy that Evan had made a friend,” she says. “I had no idea – he didn’t tell me about the pills until he had to ask for refills.”  
“Oh,” says Connor. He wants to disappear through the floor. “Sorry.”  
“Hon,” Heidi says. “I just want you to know that I am so grateful for everything you’ve done for Evan. I know – He’s said that you don’t want your parents knowing about him, and I’ll stay quiet, I promise. I don’t know what your relationship with them is like but I have some practice dealing with Evan’s anxiety and if you need to talk, I just want you to know that I am always here, okay?”

Connor stares at her.  
“Um,” he says. His voice is a little croaky. “Thank you. Um. You know _I’m_ dating Evan, right?”

She laughs. “Yeah, hon, he made that one pretty clear. Honestly? I wasn’t that surprised, he’s been waxing lyrical about you for months.”  
“Oh,” says Connor. He’s really struggling to keep up with this one.  
“I trust my son,” Heidi says. “If he thinks you’re worth it, I’m in his corner a hundred percent, and that means I’m in your corner. I trust his judgement and I’m glad he’s chosen someone he cares so deeply about, and who cares about him.”  
“Oh.”

She smiles at him again. He can feel that his face has gone red – Evan thinks he’s _worth it,_ Evan _cares_ about him –

“When he was a kid,” Heidi says. “We found a dead bird on the doorstep – next door’s cat, you know? He was absolutely devastated, he made me put the bird in a shoebox and he had a funeral in the back garden. I think he made a little tombstone, it’s probably still there – ”  
“ _Mom_!”

Evan’s stood in the doorway, scarlet. Heidi twists round.  
“Hey hon! Did you get everything?”  
“Mom! You can’t – tell people the bird story!”  
“Sorry,” Heidi says, making a face at Connor. Connor laughs. Evan scowls at him.  
“It’s really cute,” Connor tells him. “And I’m not at all surprised.”  
“You suck,” Evan mutters, swinging a shopping bag up onto his wrist and heading into the kitchen.

Heidi laughs, gets up and follows him. Connor can hear them talking through the wall, then Evan’s back, holding out a cup of water for Connor to take.

“Sorry about her,” he says. “She’s really embarrassing.”  
“She loves you,” Connor says. “It’s nice.”  
“Oh God,” Evan says, staring at him. “What did she say?”

Connor shakes his head. He doesn’t know if he means _later_ or _never_. He doesn’t know if Heidi talked through what she wanted to say to Connor with Evan.

“Is the tombstone really still there?”  
“No,” Evan snaps, so it totally is. 

* * *

 

“Knock knock,” Zoe says.  
“Tell them to give me my door back,” Connor says, not looking up. He started doodling in the sketchpad Evan got him a few days ago and it expanded into something weird, like flowers if flowers exploded.   
“That’s good,” she says, suddenly a lot closer. He shuts the book. “What?”  
“Nothing.”  
“Oh-kay,” she says, drawing it out. She’s in shorts and an old top she cut up to add patches to her jeans a few weeks ago. “Blue or green?”

She’s holding two boxes of hair dye. Connor says,  
“That one.”  
“Really? I was leaning more towards blue.”  
“Blue then. Why the fuck did you ask?”  
“I’m _trying_ to be _friendly_.”  
“Sorry.”

But she grins at him, shit-eating, so she clearly didn’t mean it.

“Come sit with me while I put it in?”   
“Do Cynthia and Larry know about this?”  
“You know it’s really weird you call them by their first names, right?”  
“Just add it to the list. Do they know?”  
“Yeah, I told mom at breakfast.”  
“And she was okay with it?”  
“Well she didn’t technically say no.”

She’s already been in the bathroom for a while – her phone is on the sink, playing Top 40 songs he kind of recognises from the car journeys into school and the air’s still kind of hot and smells like shampoo. Zoe drops onto the bathtub to read the instructions. Connor sits on the toilet lid. She turns to face the mirror, combing out her hair into sections with her fingers.

“Are you dead set on not coming to prom?” she asks.  
“Yes.”  
“Okay,” she says. “I think you make shit decisions, but fine.”  
“Thanks.”  
“Mom’ll be disappointed.”  
“She’s probably used to it.”  
“That’s a horrible thing to say.”

Connor sighs.

“Are you going with Alana?”  
“Yep,” she says. “I got my prom-posal first, to _your_ prom, are you jealous?”  
“So jealous,” he says, flatly.   
“I’m gonna wear blue,” she says. “To match my hair. I think I’ve got the dress in mind, I saw it online yesterday.”  
“Cool.”  
“We’re going with Jared and Evan.”  
“Cool.”  
“Alana’s bought you a ticket in case you change your mind,” Zoe says.

Connor doesn’t dignify that with a response.

“Hey, set a timer will you? Half an hour?”  
“Okay.”  
“Do you think Alana’s going to want to break up with me?” she asks, sitting in the bath with a towel round her shoulders.   
“I don’t know?”  
“Because she’s going out of state, so.”  
“You could go long-distance?”  
“Yeah, but it’d be long distance for four years,” Zoe says. “I mean, there’s no way I’m going to go to Princeton.”  
“Larry would love it if you did.”  
“Yeah, if I followed my girlfriend to college,” she says. “So, who’s gonna come out to them first?”  
“We could do it at the same time.”  
“Scare them into an early grave.”  
“That’s one way to collect the inheritance.”  
“You have a dark mind,” she says. “You’re oldest.”  
“They like you better.”  
“That’s not true,” Zoe says. He doesn’t want to have that conversation.   
“You’re only _half_ gay, so you should do it.”  
“I am half gay,” she says, laughing. “Hey, mom, dad, I am half gay. That’s it, I’ve got my coming out speech. Hey, hey, does that mean me and Evan together make one full gay?”  
“You are so weird,” Connor says.  
“How much longer?”  
“Thirteen minutes.”

She smacks her lips together.

“I’m so hungry,” she says. “I wish mom would give up veganism, I miss hot dogs.”   
“Pepperoni pizza.”  
“Oh God,” she says. “ _Pepperoni._ Steak. Bacon.” She stretches out her legs and both her knees pop. She winces. “Hey, has Evan shown you the speech he’s written for the assembly?”  
“No?”  
“Oh,” she says. “It’s good. You’ll like it, I think. It’s kind of personal. I mean, I cried when I read it.”  
“Oh,” he says.   
“It’s good,” she repeats, firmly. “It’s not. Y’know, you’re really important to him? He really cares about you.”  
“Okay,” he says. He thinks he could tell her, now, that Evan is really important to him too – but then he thinks she might be mad, or disappointed, and they’re just – they’re barely in a good place. He has so much to make up for. He doesn’t want to ruin it before he’s had a chance to try. “You’ve got thirty seconds left.”  
“Ah shit, thanks.”

She climbs out of the bath and scrapes her hair into the sink to rinse it out. 

* * *

 

**From: Jared Kleinman**

Murphy

Murphy

Murphy

Lol it keeps trying 2 autocorrect ur name to smurf

Smurfy

Smurphy

**To: Jared Kleinman**

Wtf

Why have you typed smurf so many times

**From: Jared Kleinman**

There u r

So r u set on not coming 2 prom?

**To: Jared Kleinman**

I will block all of you

**From: Jared Kleinman**

Just cos evan kind of wants u 2

 

Evan is sat at the other end of the couch, frowning over his phone. He looks up after a moment.  
“What?”  
“Nothing,” Connor says. Evan raises his eyebrows.  
“You’re just staring at me for no reason?”  
“I’m not – staring at you,” Connor says. Evan looks unimpressed. “You’re pretty.”  
“Shut up,” he says, going pink. Connor grins, leans over to kiss him.

 

**From: Jared Kleinman**

Don’t ignore me bitch

**To: Jared Kleinman**

He hasn’t said anything to me

**From: Jared Kleinman**

idk man he just seemed kinda sad abt it when we were talkin yesterday

hey if u come we can stand in the corner and bitch abt evry1 u kno u wanna do that

**To: Jared Kleinman**

Tempting…

 

“Hey,” he says. Evan pockets his phone. “Do you really – I mean. Jared says you’re sad about me not coming to prom.”  
“I’m not – _sad_ ,” Evan splutters. “I mean, I get that you don’t want to and why and – Why do you and Jared talk about me so much?”  
“We really don’t,” Connor says. “Mostly he just sends me memes and I don’t reply. I’m not mad, if you do want me to come.”  
“Yeah but I don’t want you to feel pressured into doing anything again,” Evan says. He rubs a hand across the back of his neck. “Can we drop it? Please?”  
“Okay,” Connor says.

 

**From: Jared Kleinman**

dude it wont be like daisys party evry1 will be there so no one will notice u

**To: Jared Kleinman**

If everybody’s there then everybody will notice me

**From: Jared Kleinman**

Ur not that pretty

Just me n u n evan n zolana cmon dude itll be fun

**To: Jared Kleinman**

Why is it important to you that I come?

**From: Jared Kleinman**

Bc its important 2 evan n zolana????

And I think ud have fun

We can get drunk n u can crash @ mine if thats gon be a problem 4 ur parents

**To: Jared Kleinman**

Your typing is actually hard to read

**From: Jared Kleinman**

Fuck u

Just think about it ok?

**To: Jared Kleinman**

Ok

Thank you

**From: Jared Kleinman**

Im framin that n putting it on my wall

* * *

 

 Alana’s assembly is on Friday, a week before finals start.

She was supposed to send Connor the speech but she never did – he’s not really mad, though. He trusts her; he doesn’t think she’s gonna pull another Connor Project, and this is kind of the first time he’s seen her in four days outside of classes. She spends most of her time in the library, behind massive books, eating carrot sticks out of Tupperware.

Zoe finds him in the hall as people file in and sits next to him, at the end of a row towards the back. If the people who stare at Connor bother her, she doesn’t show it – laughing at Jared, at the front of the room talking to Ms Bee; he’s wearing one of those shirts with a tie printed on it like he made an effort to dress up.

When the noise in the hall comes to a natural lull, Ms Bee announces how happy she is to be here for this assembly, one she’s been looking forward to since they suggested it – that’s a surprise to Connor, who thought it was Ms Bee’s idea. “I’ve watched this group grow into something really amazing over the past year,” Ms Bee says. “And I’m looking forward to seeing what they’re going to share with us. Alana?”

Alana comes forward and with her –

Is Evan.

Connor glances over at Zoe but she seems to have been expecting it – she’s leaning forward, biting at her nails. Connor knew he wrote the speech but he hadn’t expected him to be delivering it. Alana drops back as Evan approaches the front so it’s just him, clutching notecards. He starts to say something and coughs and goes red and stops and some people in front of Connor titter so Connor kicks the back of their chairs. Zoe doesn’t even blink.

“Good morning students and faculty I just would like to say a few words to you today about – about my best friend – Connor Murphy. Uh, you all know who Connor is ‘cos last – ” His voice falters. Behind him, Alana says something – it’s lost but Evan squares his shoulders. “Last year, Connor tried to kill himself. I don’t know how many of you have ever felt forgotten, or alone. I know that I have felt like that. I spent a long time feeling like that. I don’t feel like that anymore. Connor gave me that gift – he showed me, he showed all of us, that we’re not alone, that we matter. I’m sorry – I wish that we could have given him that gift last September. Nobody deserves to feel like they don’t matter. We spend so much time feeling alone that we forget that there are people who love us and care what happens to us. No matter how bad it gets, no matter how alone you feel, that’s not the end. It does get better. If you look around, there are people who care about you, even in the most unexpected places. If you reach out a hand, there’ll always be someone waiting to take it. You will be found.”

He looks up. From the front of the room, he meets Connor’s eyes.

Zoe took his hand somewhere around _he tried to kill himself._ She squeezes tight. He can’t really feel it – something hot and good and painful has exploded in his chest and the people around him are looking but he doesn’t – he doesn’t care –

Alana comes forward and talks about the You Will Be Found project – what they do and why they formed and how to get in touch with them for anything.

The girl sat behind Zoe taps her shoulder and hands her tissues.

Connor remembers sitting in an assembly last September and missing every word because he kept thinking _you’re such a freak you’re such a freak you’re such a freak_ and he felt like he was walking round in a vacuum and it was hard to breathe around the numbness that had spread outwards for years and years. He remembers being so conscious about the pills at the bottom of his bag. He remembers stopping by a classroom door on his way out of school and seeing Evan Hansen sat in the third row with his cast and his polo shirt and convincing himself for a second to wait and give him the pills back because maybe he needed them.

He doesn’t really remember anything else. He remembers Alana coming to visit him in hospital and then again with flowers, and Evan coming into his room with daisies and then, eight months later, kissing Connor on his mom’s back porch and Connor is so incredibly, wonderfully, impossibly alive.

Zoe turns to Connor as everyone around them is getting up to leave, the tissue still pressed over her nose and her cheeks flushed, and says,  
“Can I give you a hug?”

He buries his head in her shoulder and she holds tight. He breathes in the scent of her shampoo – the one she’s used for years, it smells like peaches and he’s missed her, he missed her so much and that could have been it –

Jared’s voice says,  
“Shit, is he okay?”  
“I’m fine,” he says, as Zoe lets him go. Her face is blotchy and she’s got mascara lines down her cheeks. “That was – um.”  
“Okay?” Evan says, from behind Jared. Someone claps him on the shoulder as they pass; he jumps away from it.   
“Okay,” Connor says. “Thank you.”

He hopes they understand how much it means to him, how much they mean to him. He doesn’t think it’s possible for them to know just what they’ve done for him – he’s not sure he can tell himself, some days. He lets Alana pull him up and hug him and lets Jared hug him too and then Zoe again for good measure and finally Evan, who squeezes him tight and holds him there for longer than any of the others had.

* * *

 

 He can’t catch Evan alone until History, but then Brian Harris keeps shooting him weird looks so he has to wait until the bell goes and then he catches Evan’s hand as he swings his backpack up onto his shoulder and drags him to the nearest bathroom.

“What are – ” Evan says, as Connor wheels them into a cubicle and locks the door. Then he’s flung his arms around Evan’s shoulders and hugged him, tight as he can. Evan’s arms go around his waist. He holds on.

Connor breathes out against his shoulder. His eyes are burning now that they’re alone and Evan’s here. Evan doesn’t say anything until Connor pulls back and then he wipes at Connor’s cheeks and rocks up on tip-toe to press a kiss to the corner of Connor’s mouth.  
“Um,” says Connor. His voice is thick in his mouth but he wants to _try_ – “Um, I don’t know what to say.”  
“You don’t have to – ”  
“No, I do. You’ve done so much for me. Everything you said – everything you’ve done – I don’t know how to tell you what it means to me, but it does – ”  
“You don’t need to,” Evan says. “Really. You. You made me feel like I mattered. I meant that.”

Connor hugs him again, pressing a kiss to his hair. Evan tightens his arms around Connor’s waist.

Somehow, they stay there for half an hour. Then they have to rush back to Connor’s locker because Zoe has been sending increasingly cross variations of _where the fuck are you._  
“Sorry!” Evan says, as they approach. Jared is sat on the floor; Zoe and Alana are leant either side of the locker.   
“Where were you?” Zoe demands. “You better not be high!”  
“I’m not high!” Connor says, trying to open his locker. It’s stuck again. “I just – had to thank him.”  
“Are you aware that, like, everything you guys say about each other sounds like it came from a porno?” Jared asks. Connor kicks him.   
“No one wants to know what you do in your spare time, Kleinman,” he says. His locker pops open.  
“You’re okay, though?” Alana says, touching his arm, gently.   
“I mean, you guys did just bring up the time I tried to kill myself to the whole school,” he points out, shoving his History textbook in at the back. “But yeah, I’m fine, considering.”  
“Good,” Zoe says. She shuts his locker for him – it stays shut for her, obviously – and slings an arm around his waist, her other over Alana’s shoulders. “We’re gonna go for ice cream then.”

* * *

 

  **From: Alana.Beck**

Evan someone put the video of your speech online

We have 4,582 people following us now

**From: Evan_Hansen**

Online?

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

4582 r u srs??

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Are you ok with it being online evan?

**From: Evan_Hansen**

Yes I think so

If it helps anyone it’s worth it

Zoe showed their parents the video that evening. Connor came down for a glass of water to find Zoe sitting on the coffee table with her laptop and his parents on the couch, making her replay it over and over. Cynthia made Connor sit between them and cried until Zoe passed her the box of tissues and Larry put his arm around Connor’s shoulders and squeezed. 


	4. Spring, Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will never be able to say thank you enough for being so incredibly kind to this fic! A lot happens in this chapter because I have no self-control. Also probably a good time to admit I am not American and if the timings for exams/prom and graduation in the next chapter seem a bit weird that is because I got them off Google I am sorry please suspend your disbelief? Warnings for: references to suicide attempts, self harm, panic attacks, smoking, underage drinking.

 

**To: Evan Hansen**

Hey do you want to come round? We can study for algebra?

Zoe’s out with band tonight and my parents are at a dinner party?

**From: Evan Hansen**

Im on myw ay!

**To: Evan Hansen**

Wow Hansen nice typos

**From: Evan Hansen**

>:I

 

Evan brings print outs of You Will Be Found emails with him, which is cute, so they go through a reply after every set of algebra problems, sitting next to each other on Connor’s bed and Evan drafts them out in his pretty, slanting handwriting.  
“Do you ever think,” Connor says, watching Evan cross the ‘t’s with a flourish, “that the people writing these emails could be – anyone. From school, or – anyone.”  
“Yeah,” Evan says. He pauses, clearly on the verge of something more and then – “Would you have emailed in, if we’d had something like this, before?”  
“Probably not,” Connor admits. His hand is open, palm up, on the bed between them; Evan interlaces their fingers and turns his head to kiss Connor, quick and soft.  
“I think I might have done,” he says. “I hope we’re making a difference. Even if it’s to one person.”  
“You’ve already made a difference to one person,” Connor says. Evan presses forward to kiss him again, one hand in Connor’s hair.

They tip backwards, the print-outs crumpling and then Zoe’s cried,  
“Oh my _God_!”  
“Fucking _shit_ ,” Connor says as Evan rolls off him and scrambles across the room. Zoe is staring at them from the hallway. She’s got her guitar over her shoulder and her jacket on – she must have just come in. “I thought you were _out_ –”  
“Is this something you do often?” she demands. “Wait ‘til I’m out to make out with one of our closest friends in secret?”  
“Why aren’t you out?”  
“Why are you and Evan making out?”  
“I’m so sorry,” Evan says.   
“It’s – fine, Evan, hey, breathe.”

Zoe comes into the room, leaving her guitar in the doorway.

“Hey, Evan, it’s fine, we’re not arguing!” she says. Evan nods. He shoves his hands in his pockets, looking hard at the floor. “I was just surprised, is all. I thought Connor would have _told me_.”  
“I wanted to,” Connor says. “But you didn’t seem so keen on the idea.”

She rocks up onto the balls of her feet. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” She sends Evan an apologetic smile. “Downstairs, maybe?”  
“I can go – ”  
“No, don’t worry, it’s just a second!” she says.   
“It’s fine,” Connor says, when Evan makes a little sound of apology as he passes him.

Zoe leads the way into the kitchen and waits by the door to shut it. She rounds on Connor with her hands on her hips.

“Are you _serious_?”  
“Yeah, seems so.”  
“Don’t be flippant,” she snaps. “I asked you, like, fifty times whether you liked him and you just lied to me? Every single fucking time?”  
“I didn’t lie to you,” Connor protests. “Every time.”  
“So you don’t like him?”  
“No – I do, but it’s. Kind of recent.”  
“How recent?”  
“Um,” Connor says. “I dunno. Spring break?”  
“So – a month? Over a month? That’s not _recent.”  
“_ Yeah well you seemed pretty set against it.”

She makes a sound, frustrated.   
“God, it’s not ‘cos I don’t want you to be happy, okay? Either of you – like, if this makes you both happy then, fucking _great_. But you’re not – you’re not – ”  
“You think I’m gonna hurt him?”  
“Do you blame me?” she says.

He doesn’t realise he’s clenching his fist until his palm starts to hurt. It takes conscious effort to uncurl his fingers.

“No,” he says, carefully. “No, I don’t. And I, um, I really don’t want to do to you or him or anyone what I. The way I behaved towards you. I don’t want to be like that, ever again. I, um, Evan and I, we talked about it? And I asked Dr West about it.”  
“I don’t want you to think that I don’t think you’re getting better,” she says, a little softer now. “I’m sorry that you thought you couldn’t tell me. I like – I like being in that kind of place with you now? Where we talk. I like that, I missed that. I mean, we never really had that, but I like it.”  
“I do too,” he says.

She sticks her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. “Okay,” she says. “I mean, I guess it isn’t really any of my business and if he knows – if he’s aware, I mean – And you are.”  
“Yeah.”  
“I am happy for you, really,” she says. Then she steps forwards to hug him, brief but tight. When she steps back, she’s grinning. “Wait – does this mean Jared doesn’t know?”  
“Yes?”  
“Oh my God, _please_ let me be there when you tell him.”

Evan has moved to sit on Connor’s bed when they get back. He stands up when they enter, hugging one arm across his chest.   
“You have my full blessing,” Zoe announces, sidestepping her guitar to flop down on the bed. “On one condition. I wanna see Jared’s reaction when you tell him you have actually been dating.”

Connor and Evan exchange a look.

“I mean – I don’t know if we’re telling people – ”  
“I don’t mind, now Zoe knows,” Connor says. Evan gives him a smile, a little relieved. He sits back down, pulling out his phone. Zoe cackles.

“What do I say?” Evan says. He clicks his phone off and on again, nervously.  
“Do you want me to say it?” Connor asks, sitting on the desk chair.   
“Yes please.”  
“Okay,” Connor says. He unlocks his phone. “What do I say?”  
“ _Hopeless_ ,” Zoe tells them. “Just be like, hey guys, Evan and I are dating.”  
“I don’t say ‘hey guys’,” Connor tells her. She flips him off.  
“Say, greetings from the abyss of teenage angst or whatever, then.”

Evan snorts and then tries to pretend he didn’t when Connor looks at him.

“How about just, Evan and I are dating?”  
“You have to cushion the blow a bit,” Zoe says.   
“By the way?” Evan suggests. “By the way, Connor and I are dating? But, you’re saying – Evan – you know what I mean.”  
“Okay,” Connor says, smiling at him.

**From: Connor_Murphy**

btw evan and i are dating

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

YOU HAVE MY FULL SUPPORT <3 <3 <3

“Thanks,” Connor tells her. She grins, swinging one arm around Evan’s neck to bring him into a kind of hug, kind of headlock.

 

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

WHA T

W HAT

WAIT I HAVE THINGS TO SAY IM STARTING A THREAD

1 – so when I asked if u were banging and u said no u were a dirty rotten liar hansen????? wtf i thought we were friends??

2 – im not v surprised u 2 are not subtle u literally spent like 5 mins holding each other after evans speech it was gross??

3 – im happy 4 u 2 i think ur cute

/end thread

**From: Evan_Hansen**

Thanks Jared :)

**From: Alana.Beck**

I was so ready to be angry with you guys for interrupting my study session but I am so happy for you! You have my full support and love <3

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

Murphy if u hurt evan i will Destroy u

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Same xxx

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Ok

 “Okay, I’ll let you get back to making out,” Zoe says, wrinkling her nose. She presses a kiss to Evan’s cheek as she stands, patting Connor’s knee when she passes him.  
“We were – Algebra,” Evan says.  
“Me and Alana call it Chemistry, but sure, whatever floats your boat,” she says. She picks up her guitar in the doorway. “Ha, bet you wish you had a door, right, Connor?”  
“Fuck you,” Connor tells her, nicely. 

* * *

 

**From: Alana.Beck**

Hey just checked the YWBF page. We have over 16,000 followers since the video went up.

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

wtf that’s insane??

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Wow??

That’s amazing??

**From: Alana.Beck**

Yeah it is :)

You know, if we’re actually helping any of those people, that’s a really big achievement. I’m really proud of what we’ve done and of all of you and I want to say thanks again for getting involved

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

i mean u don’t have 2 talk like were not friends

but

i agree

**From: Alana.Beck**

I’ve been thinking

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

dangerous

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

About what babe?

**From: Alana.Beck**

I’m thinking we should upload another video because Evan’s speech brought so many new visitors to the site

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

What kind of video?

**From: Alana.Beck**

Well I was just thinking but maybe we could kind of talk about our own experiences?

**From: Connor_Murphy**

No

Veto

**From: Evan_Hansen**

Yeah sorry Alana I don’t really want to talk about it on the internet that’s too much

Sorry

**From: Alana.Beck**

I just think it could be really useful to share our experiences because we have such a wide range of them and it might be nice to put more of our faces to the replies?

**From: Connor_Murphy**

No???

Veto????????

**From: Alana Beck**

Fine

* * *

 

Evan is sat in front of Brian Harris in their Algebra exam. Connor knows because he’s sat a little bit behind them, two rows away, and whenever he looks up, Brian is chewing the end of his pencil and Evan is scribbling away or biting his nails and frowning over whatever he’s written, his nose almost touching the paper. Once, when Connor looks up, Brian is kicking at the back of Evan’s chair.

Connor actually manages to finish the paper, which is probably mostly due to Alana going over stuff with him yesterday. Then it’s _pens down, sit still while we collect the exams._ Evan’s pulling his hoodie back on, folding his hands up into the sleeves.

Brian stays standing by his desk when they’re dismissed, stretching until his back cracks – Connor shoulders him as he passes, catching up to Evan at the door.   
“How was it?” he asks. Evan wrinkles his nose.  
“Um, I think I got question three wrong and I didn’t really get question five but I think the first one was okay-ish, I don’t know, I don’t really want to think about it because I tend to just – blow it up in my head.”  
“Okay,” Connor says, easily. “At least it’s over, hey?”  
“No more Algebra,” Evan agrees, fervently. “Hopefully _ever_.”

Brian shoves past him, turning round to flip him off. Connor rolls his eyes.

“What’s _he_ mad about?”  
“Oh, he was kicking you so I – ”  
“When?”  
“During the exam.”  
“Oh,” Evan says, tugging at the zip of his hoodie. “I didn’t feel that.” He narrows his eyes at Connor. “What did you do?”  
“Nothing, it’s fine,” Connor says.   
“You don’t need to fight people for me,” Evan says. “You shouldn’t – you shouldn’t get yourself in trouble for me.”  
“Okay,” Connor says. Evan still looks suspicious so he says. “Sorry.”

Evan relaxes, kind of, bumping his shoulder against Connor’s as they round the corner to his locker.

“I guess I’m gonna miss sitting next to you in Algebra,” he says, putting in his combination.   
“You _guess_.”  
“I am,” Evan says, pulling out his backpack. “I am gonna miss sitting next to you in Algebra.”  
“You can sit next to me in other places.”  
“I suppose,” Evan says. He puts his water bottle and his pencil case in his backpack, zips it back up, swings it onto his shoulder, and then hesitates before shutting his locker. “It is gonna be different though, isn’t it? When we’re not seeing each other every day – all of us, I mean.”  
“There was this totally insane invention in the 90s, Hansen, phones, right? And computers?”  
“Shut up,” Evan says. He shuts his locker.   
“I mean it,” Connor says. “People aren’t going to forget about you just because we don’t see you every day.”

Evan screws up his nose. “Okay,” he says. They start to walk down towards Connor’s locker, where he left his phone and car keys. The hall is mostly empty – just a few people from the Algebra exam – but Connor doesn’t risk it anyway, just pressing the back of his hand against Evan’s as they swing past each other.   
“Seriously,” he says. “I mean, Zoe loves you and you and Jared’ve been friends for years and Alana’s got the best memory in the world like, I swear, it’s photographic. You’re locked in.”  
“And you?”   
“Couldn’t forget you if I tried,” Connor says. Evan kind of smiles at that, presses his hand back against Connor’s.  
“Sappy,” he says. Connor rolls his eyes, fiddling with the combination on his locker.   
“Fuck off.”

Evan’s still watching him, leant against the next locker, kind of smiling.   
“What?” Connor says. He has to slam his locker shut twice.   
“Nothing,” Evan says.   
“Okay,” Connor says. Evan tightens his grip on his backpack, bumps his shoulder against Connor’s again and when Connor turns to raise his eyebrows, he’s still smiling, small and soft, like they’re sat around a breakfast table in a rom-com, the kind of expression that’s totally out of place here, in this shitty school with its grey lockers and the weird damp patches on the ceiling and aimed at _Connor._

* * *

 

  **From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Im staging a virtual intervention

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

THAnK FuCK

Evan the polo shirts have got 2 go u look like a dad w a membership 2 a golf club n I cant be affiliated w that

Murphy ur look is 2 avril lavigne pls stop

Murphy 2.0 hippie chick is 2 coachella 2 hang out with us

Alana I get that u wanna be potus someday but u don’t have 2 start dressing like that this early

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

I kind of?? Had a topic in mind?? To hold the intervention for??

Also fuck you

**From: Evan_Hansen**

What’s wrong with the polo shirts? :(

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Nothing ignore him he’s being a dick

**From: Alana.Beck**

Can you stop?? My notifications are going off like crazy and I have an exam tomorrow!

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

U kno u can just turn em off rite?

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

THIS IS WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT

ALANA BABE

We love you and we want to help you

You’ve uploaded two posts to YWBF in the past week WHILE revising for four exams

There are four more of us on this chat

PLEASE delegate!!

We all want to help

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

u kno the rest of us also have exams

**From: Evan_Hansen**

Not as many as Alana

Or as many AP

Hey Alana I can write the Friday post if you want?

I can send it to you to edit if you think that’s best

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

I can answer more emails I don’t have anything else this week

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Yeah same I guess

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Same!

And I can take over the Facebook account

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

Oh I can defo help with that

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

No you’d just put up loads of wholesome memes

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

They promote healthy lifestyles and relationships y don’t u want them?

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Alana?

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Did she mute us?

JARED.

**From: Alana.Beck**

 No

Sorry

Thank you guys

That means a lot

That would be really kind and helpful

Thank you 

* * *

 

Connor meets Alana to go over English notes a few days before the exam. She’s already had one that morning – AP Biology, she’s in the same class as Evan and Evan had sent Connor a long string of teary-eyed emoticons after they got out. Alana’s pretty cheerful anyway, although she drinks a large coffee in about ten seconds flat, slamming the paper cup down onto the table and going immediately up to the counter to order another one and a muffin.

Connor’s pretty sure that’s not healthy, but he’s also positive that he’s not in any position to talk so he just leaves it.

“Right,” says Alana, when she’s back. “Let’s go over essay technique and then we can have a five minute break before reviewing themes and characters?”

They go over essay technique.  
“So what’s your next exam?” Alana says, when Connor puts down his pen.   
“History, but it’s not a break if we’re just talking about a different subject.”  
“Right,” says Alana. She takes her glasses off and rubs her eyes. “Are you coming to prom yet?”  
“What do you mean, yet?”  
“I mean, me and Jared absolutely intend to bug you until you agree and I’m pretty sure Jared’s got a back up plan where he actually kidnaps you and drags you there, so.”  
“I might. Turn up for a bit. A tiny bit.”  
“That’s good enough,” she says, firmly. “Evan’ll be pleased.”  
“Yeah,” Connor says. “And my dad won’t make such a big deal out of it.”  
“I don’t get your parents,” Alana says. “Also, and stop me if I’m totally off base here, but does your mom want me to date you or something?”  
“Oh, yeah,” Connor says. “Sorry about that.”

Alana considers it. “Does it mean she’ll be pleased that I’m dating your sister?”  
“It keeps you in the family, I guess.”

Alana laughs. She drags the pad of her finger around the empty plate, collecting crumbs. “I always wanted siblings.”  
“Yeah?”  
“Yeah. I think I was a kind of miracle birth, you know? But I always wanted siblings – an older sister and a younger brother.”  
“You had it all planned out.”  
“I’d _named_ them,” Alana admits. “I was kind of lonely, as a child.”  
“Yeah,” Connor says. “Same.”

Alana smiles at him from across the table, kind of sad but not pitying. Then she sits up straight, reaching over for her notepad. “Right. Let’s do characters first, then themes? Or themes then characters?”  
“Themes, then characters,” Connor says, just to be contrary, but she shrugs and they do it like that anyway. 

* * *

 

**To: Evan Hansen**

Tell me something cool about trees

**From: Evan Hansen**

Da Vinci’s came up with the Rule of the Trees which suggests that all branches of a tree put together are equal to the thickness of its trunk and it appears to be true!

**To: Evan Hansen**

Cool

**From: Evan Hansen**

Are you okay?

**To: Evan Hansen**

Yeah

**From: Evan Hansen**

Stressed?

**To: Evan Hansen**

Kind of

**From: Evan Hansen**

It will be okay

You’ve done a lot of revision and your good at English anyway so you’ll be fine and then it’s over

Connor’s sat on the foot of his bed. Zoe’s playing guitar in her bedroom – the sound filters through the wall. Downstairs, Larry and Cynthia are arguing – muffled voices, Cynthia crashing pots and pans. His wrist kind of itches but he’s refusing to scratch it because he wants to be better and that’s – that’s the problem, there’s so much he wants and –

He types a response slowly.

**To: Evan Hansen**

I’m just kind of stressed bc ive actually tried and idk if I’m actually going to be any good and if I’m not then it’s just because I’m shit not bc I didn’t revise and that’s gonna be kind of disappointing and idk how to deal with that

He deletes it without sending.

 

**To: Evan Hansen**

*you’re

* * *

 

 The English exam is also his last one.

Mr Cowell is waiting outside the room and he catches Connor as they come out.  
“Hey, can I have a word?”  
“I’ll wait,” Evan says so Connor follows Mr Cowell back to his office.

Connor has no idea what he could have done wrong – but then Mr Cowell turns to him and says,  
“So, you’re taking a year out?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Thinking about applying for college next year?”  
“Uh, yeah, probably.”  
“What are your plans?”  
“Try and get a job, um, I’ll be helping out more with Alana’s support group, so. Maybe take some classes at a community college or something, I don’t really know.”  
“That sounds good,” says Mr Cowell. He opens his desk drawer and takes out a pad of paper and a pen, scribbles something down and then passes it to Connor. “If you need a reference, or you want someone to look over your application or essay, here’s my email.”  
“Oh,” says Connor. He was not expecting this.  
“I’ve watched you this year,” Mr Cowell says. “Your grades have gone up, your participation is – well, minimal, but always valuable. I think you have a very bright future ahead of you, and I’ll be glad to help you out in any small way I can.”  
“Oh,” says Connor, again. He doesn’t know what to do in situations like this. He has never been in a situation like this – this is an Alana situation. Teachers tend to hate Connor. “Thanks.”  
“You’re quite welcome.” He smiles. “Good luck, Mr Murphy.”

Evan is waiting on the school steps, immersed in a book Zoe lent him. He looks up when Connor stops next to him, smiles, shielding his eyes from the sun and says,  
“What happened?”  
“He wanted to know what I was doing next year,” Connor says, holding out a hand to pull Evan up. Evan takes it, and doesn’t let go. “He gave me his email so I could ask him for a reference or whatever, and then told me he thought I had a bright future.”  
“I always liked Mr Cowell,” Evan says, firmly. “He’s very sensible.”  
“Mmmm, I’m starting to think you’re biased.”  
“Biased?” Evan says, leaning in to kiss Connor’s cheek. “Why on earth would you think that?" 

* * *

 

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

@murphy and @hansen i h8 u 2

**From: Evan_Hansen**

Why? What did I do I’m sorry?

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

U R FINISHED AND I AM NOT

I AM SO TIRED OF REVISING I DO NOT EVEN LIKE TRIG

**From: Alana.Beck**

Nobody likes trig, suck it up Kleinman

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

I STILL HAVE ANOTHER YEAR OF THIS STOP COMPLAINING KLEINMAN

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

NO COMPLAINING IS THE ONLY THING THAT MAKES IT WORTHWHILE

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Must suck to be you rn Kleinman

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

AAAAAAAAAAH

**From: Alana.Beck**

STOP TEXTING I’M TRYING TO REVISE 

* * *

 

“What are you thinking about?” Evan asks.

They’re sat on his bed. Evan’s reading – or, he was reading – and Connor’s trying to draw Alana from memory, only he went wrong somewhere, it’s missing something Alana-ish, but he got distracted from working out what it was by Evan’s complete obliviousness and the total freedom to stare at him as much as he wanted to – the way the muscles in his hand pulled tight where he was twisting the covers absently, the shadow of his eyelashes and his eyes moving beneath them, the faint, amused curve of his lips.

“Kissing you,” Connor says. Evan goes bright red and puts his book on the bedside table so Connor drops the not-Alana picture on the floor and crawls up to meet him.

Evan is making increasingly interesting sounds against Connor’s mouth when his phone goes off once – twice – He pulls away, reaching past Connor for his phone where he left it on the blanket.  
“I’m gonna put it on silent,” he says, a little breathlessly and Connor huffs a laugh against Evan’s neck. “Oh, my mum’s not coming back until after class – do you wanna stay for dinner?”  
“You just don’t want to have to talk to the pizza delivery guy,” Connor says.   
“It’s not _just_ that,” Evan says, and Connor kisses the laugh out of his mouth. “No, but seriously,” he says, a little while later. His lips are kiss-swollen and he’s _beautiful_ and Connor says,  
“I’m joking, Evan, of course I want to stay.”  
“You could – You could stay the night, if you wanted,” Evan says.

Connor sits back, raising his eyebrows.

“Not – Not like that, sorry um, not – yet? Um, it’s just – you know, when you leave, I kind of miss you and it’d be nice if you stayed but you don’t have to, if it’s weird, or too soon, or – sorry, I’m sorry – ”  
“Won’t your mom mind?”  
“No,” Evan says. “I mean, I’ll ask but I don’t think so.”

While Evan asks, Connor orders pizza on his phone – partly because he’s really hungry now that Evan’s mentioned food and partly so Evan won’t be able to pay for it.

“Yeah,” Evan says, tossing his mobile back onto the bed. “She says it’s fine as long as your parents are okay with it.”

So Connor sends his mom a message and then they go and watch _Friends_ reruns in the sitting room because Evan gets nervous about not hearing the doorbell if he’s upstairs.

 

**To: Cynthia Murphy**

Hey im gonna stay at evans tonight

**From: Cynthia Murphy**

Okay

Is everything alright?

**To: Cynthia Murphy**

Yeah

 

“Are you excited for prom?” Evan asks. Connor slides his phone onto the coffee table.  
“Not really,” he says.  
“Neither,” Evan admits. “But it’s really important to my mom and, I dunno, it could be fun.”  
“I don’t want to wear a suit.”  
“Neither do I,” Evan says, but then he starts laughing. “But Jared said that he looks ridiculous in his suit so I’m kind of – looking forward to that.”  
“Heart of stone, Hansen,” Connor says, amused.  
“I think he borrowed one of his cousins’,” Evan says. “He said there are ruffles.”  
“Now you’re just making stuff up,” Connor says.   
“I’m not! He said – _ruffles,_ he used the word.”

The doorbell goes. Evan passes Connor the tip for the delivery guy and settles back into the couch cushions.  
“I _like_ when you stay for dinner,” he says. Connor rolls his eyes and goes to get the pizzas.

When he gets back, Evan’s changed the channel over to some documentary about the Amazon. He already looks enthralled, biting absently at his thumbnail, and he doesn’t notice Connor’s returned until Connor drops the box onto his lap. Then he starts up.  
“Sorry, sorry.”  
“It’s okay,” Connor says. “What are we watching?”  
“Oh, I can – Put something else on, I just thought – Alana texted me and said it was on – ”  
“Cool, what is it?”

Evan chews at his bottom lip for a moment before smiling. “It’s about the Amazon, it’s called Secrets of the Amazon.”  
“Cool,” says Connor, sitting back.

It is actually quite interesting but Connor keeps getting distracted by Evan sitting next to him, picking the cheese off his pizza when it gets too stringy and folding it neatly into a corner of the box, making little hums of agreement or interest at the screen. When he’s finished, he puts his head on Connor’s shoulder – Connor doesn’t think anything of it until Evan starts laughing at one of the narrator’s really awful puns and then he can feel the vibrations in his bones. It’s so – _normal_ and – He really, _really_ likes Evan Hansen, it’s weird and kind of giddy. That’s not it – he doesn’t feel manic, he feels steady and grounded with Evan, like he’s real and Evan’s real and it’s all –

“Stop it,” Evan murmurs, without looking away from the TV.   
“What?”  
“Stop staring at me, it’s distracting.”  
“Sorry,” Connor says, flushing. He can feel Evan grin against his shoulder.

They stay like that for a while after the programme ends. Evan sits up for a moment to get the remote and change the channel but the news is depressing and the _Friends_ reruns have stopped so he just turns it off.

“Do you reckon they have, like, script writers for that kind of thing? Documentaries?”  
“I guess,” Connor says. “Why?”  
“I don’t know,” says Evan. “Maybe that’d be – cool to do. As a job. I don’t know, that probably wouldn’t be a very stable job and I probably wouldn’t be very good at it, just people keep asking me, you know, what I want to major in and what I want to do when I’m older and I don’t. I don’t know yet and I feel like I should. I know what I want to do but I’m not. I’m not brave enough.”  
“What do you want to do?”  
“Something that involves travelling,” Evan says, quietly. “I’ve only been out of state once and that was to visit my dad. I’ve never spent a night away from home except at camp and then I was in the same cabin as Jared. And Jared’s twelfth birthday party, when he had a sleepover, except I had a panic attack ‘cos everyone screamed when he cut the cake and my mom had to come and pick me up.”  
“I’ve never spent a night away from home,” Connor says. “Except in rehab. And hospital. And with my grandma. But, like. I didn’t go to camp or anything.”  
“But you _could_ do it.”  
“Maybe,” Connor says. “Maybe not. You applied to college this year, I didn’t.”  
“I’m kind of glad I don’t have to go this fall,” Evan admits. “I didn’t realise how much I was thinking about it until I stopped having to.”   
“You know it’s okay to be scared of things? It doesn’t make you weak or some shit.”  
“Right back at you.”  
“Fuck you,” Connor says, nicely. Evan sits up so Connor can see him roll his eyes which is probably the level of passive aggressive Jared told him to wait for.  
“It’s just. Some days I’m doing well, and I can – like, I can go into a 7/11 and not freak out that the owner thinks I’m trying to shoplift and we have a normal interaction and I wait for him to make change instead of just running out? That’s a good day, which is kind of pathetic in itself. And other days I can’t even go in and then I don’t have any milk so I can’t even make hot chocolate.”  
“Is this a specific example or are you just really into metaphors?”  
“Shut up,” Evan says, smothering a smile. “Just. Do you ever just wish you could actually measure your progress? Instead of being stuck on some backwards and forwards thing where you can’t actually tell if you’re getting better or not.”  
“No, Evan, I’ve never wished I could tell if I was likely to try and kill myself again,” Connor says, flatly. Evan’s eyes widen; he looks immediately apologetic but Connor didn’t mean it like that so he barrels over him. “Just. Okay, so everyone keeps on telling me that progress isn’t an immediate thing? And it can feel fine one day and shit the next. And that’s like. No one else tells you that because it’s not exactly comforting but that’s it, that’s your head, you can’t get a new one. So – I mean, you’ve done so many things this past year that you should be happy with, you don’t need to put so much pressure on yourself.”

Evan chews his bottom lip in silence for a moment.

“Have you thought about what you want to study in college?”  
“Yeah, I am totally that well-prepared.”  
“You’d be a good therapist.”  
“Fuck off.”  
“Or, like, a social worker or something.”  
“Fuck off,” Connor says again, horrified. “You can’t put me in charge of kids – they’d all be dead within seconds, what the fuck.”

Evan laughs. He reaches over to tug Connor’s hood up over his head and then uses it to pull Connor closer and kiss him.

“You’re good at advice,” he says. “And you straighten me out when my thoughts get all jumbled.”  
“That’s ironic,” says Connor. It takes Evan a moment but then he groans.   
“That was such a _Jared joke_.”

They make up the fold-out bed before going back upstairs. When Heidi gets back, they’re sat on Evan’s bed playing hangman on the backs of the You Will Be Found printouts. It started out as some weird form of Pictionary but Evan really wasn’t joking when he said he was bad at drawing and they gave up after Evan’s attempt at a car.

She comes to say goodnight to them before going to bed.  
“How was class?” Evan asks. Heidi leans her head against the doorframe.  
“I did think I wouldn’t have to deal with pop quizzes in my forties,” she admits. “I’ve got a morning shift tomorrow, Ev, so I’ll be home at lunchtime.”  
“Okay.”  
“You are welcome to stay for as long as you want, hon,” she adds. Connor smiles at her.  
“Thanks.”  
“Right, I’m going to bed. Don’t stay up too late.” Heidi gives them both a pointed look before leaving, shutting the door behind her. They wait until they hear her bedroom door shut as well before Evan flops back against his pillows, his hands over his face.  
“I’m so sorry, she’s so embarrassing.”  
“It’s fine,” Connor says. “She’s great.”

Evan opens his fingers just wide enough for Connor to see how sceptical he looks.

They don’t stay up for that much longer. Connor gives up on hangman after Evan chooses ‘Ichthyology’ which Connor didn’t actually realise was a word because _he_ doesn’t read Wikipedia articles about fish. Evan finds an old t-shirt for Connor to wear to bed – it’s short-sleeved and Connor hesitates before taking it – he knows Evan just hasn’t thought about it but asking for a long-sleeved one will draw attention to it and Connor doesn’t really want to draw any more attention to it than absolutely necessary. He changes into the top and then pulls his hoodie back on – he can take it off when Evan’s turned the lights off.

If Evan thinks it’s weird that he’s still wearing the hoodie, he doesn’t say anything, sat up on his bed with his bottom lip between his teeth, typing something on his phone. Connor sits next to him and Evan says,  
“Zoe says hi.”  
“Hi back,” Connor says. “Why are you texting my sister?”  
“It’s not weird, is it?” Evan says, anxiously.   
“No, I was just. It’s fine, Evan, I don’t really care. It’s nice.”

Evan sets his alarm for half five so he can get up and move to the fold-out bed downstairs before his mom wakes up and then he turns the light off. Connor shuffles over, wriggling out of his hoodie and throwing it – somewhere.

Evan gets back into bed and they don’t say anything for a while.

“This is weird,” Evan says.  
“It’s only weird if you say it’s weird,” Connor says.  
“It’s not weird ‘cos you’re here, I mean, it’s just – weird. I’ve never shared a bed with anyone before.”  
“Nor’ve I.”  
“What if I snore? Or kick? Or – Or drool?”  
“You’ll still be adorable,” Connor says, laughing. The sheets rustle as Evan rolls over. Connor’s eyes are still adjusting to the dark – he can kind of see the outline of Evan’s shoulder and his arm curled up over the blanket.   
“I applied to Pottery Barn,” he says. “For the job.”  
“When do you hear back?”  
“I don’t know,” Evan says. “I don’t like waiting.”  
“It’ll work out.”  
“I guess. Is Zoe gonna – ask about this?”  
“Probably,” Connor says. “Is that okay?”  
“Yeah, I just. Yeah, it’s okay.”

They end up kissing again, for a while, until it gets too warm and then Connor rolls back and Evan hums, tiredly, tucking his head against Connor’s shoulder and sliding his arms around Connor’s waist. He stills.  
“Connor?”  
“Yeah?”

Evan’s fingers are very gentle on the insides of Connor’s arms. Connor’s heart plummets. His throat is suddenly very dry; he thinks about Larry telling him he needed to stop _attention seeking_ and then Evan says,  
“How long?”

Connor can’t talk around the – _thing_ in his throat. He does not want to cry in front of Evan again – his heart is going too fast, he thinks this is it, Evan’s going to realise just how fucked up Connor is and he won’t be able to deal with it, it’s understandable, Connor can’t deal with it himself so –

“Are you still doing it? Connor?”

Connor sits up himself. He takes Evan’s hand where it’s curled loosely around his wrist and squeezes, once, tight, hopes that Evan will understand. Evan does.   
“Okay, it’s okay. Do you want me to turn the lights on?”

Connor shakes his head, squeezing Evan’s hand again. Evan says,  
“It’s okay, I’m here, I’m not gonna go anywhere. I just – um, I guess it’s stupid to be surprised because you – I mean, suicidal thoughts don’t come out of nowhere, right? I just – um, the idea that you were in that much pain – oh, Connor – ” He slides his hand back up Connor’s arm, all the horrible scars. “I think you’re so brave, I’m so sorry.”

Connor’s eyes have stopped burning. His breathing is settling and Evan is still here.

Evan presses a kiss to his forehead, then to his nose which makes Connor laugh and Evan smiles bright and big and puts his arms around Connor when they lie down again.

Connor can hear his heartbeat, and it’s warm and peaceful and he’s half asleep when Evan whispers his name.   
“Hmmm?”  
“I want to tell you something but I don’t want to make a big deal out of it, I just want to tell you so you know.”  
“Hmmm-kay,” Connor says, blinking his eyes open. Evan’s balled up a corner of the blanket in one hand.  
“Remember when I broke my arm?”  
“Yeah.”  
“And I said I fell out of a tree?”  
“Yeah.”  
“I didn’t,” he says. “I didn’t fall, I let go.”

Connor is suddenly wide awake.

“Evan – ”  
“I don’t want to make a big deal out of it,” Evan repeats, in a whisper. “I just thought you should know. I was in a really bad place. I am not in that place anymore, I don’t want – I don’t need to – talk about it.”

Connor doesn’t say anything. Evan’s breathing evens out eventually but Connor stays awake for ages after, looking at the shadows stretching across the room. Evan’s walls are a slightly different shade of white than his ceiling.

He falls asleep.

* * *

 

 When he gets home, his mom is in the family room and she calls him in as he tries to slip upstairs without being noticed.  
“Hey,” she says.   
“Hello,” Connor says, staying firmly in the doorway.  
“I just want to catch up,” Cynthia says. “You okay?”  
“Yep.”  
“You had fun at Evan’s?”  
“Sure.”

Cynthia shifts, patting the couch next to her. “Come and sit with me, we haven’t talked in a while.”  
“Yeah, we don’t do that,” Connor snaps. “I’m going to my room.”  
“Connor – ” she says, but he’s already halfway up the stairs and she doesn’t follow him.

He doesn’t go straight to his room because he still doesn’t have a fucking door. He goes into the bathroom instead, locks it and paces until the space starts to feel too small, then he sits with his back against the bath and rolls a quarter over the tile.

Someone starts knocking.   
“Connor?” It’s Zoe.  
“What?”  
“I need to pee.”  
“Okay, just – wait.”  
“I _really_ need to pee, I’ve had like a gallon of water – ”  
“For fuck’s sake.”

She jumps back when he throws the door open. “What the fuck is your problem?”  
“Do you want the list? Ask Larry.”  
“Are you okay?"  
“I thought you needed to pee.”

She gives a muffled sound, angry, and slams the bathroom door behind her. He briefly considers leaving the house again but he doesn’t know where he’d go and he doesn’t have any weed in his room, hasn’t for the last couple of months and if he goes into the garden to smoke, Cynthia will see and freak out again.

He goes into his room and hopes that no one will come to bother him except of course Zoe does, barging in with her arms folded tight across her chest.  
“What’s wrong?”  
“Nothing.”  
“You’re acting weird. Did you and Evan have a fight or something?”  
“Why do you assume it’s _my_ fault?”  
“I didn’t? I asked if you had a fight, not if you started one.”  
“We didn’t fight.”  
“Then what the fuck happened?”  
“I don’t know Zoe, fuck off.”  
“You’re being a real fucking dick right now,” she snaps.  
“I don’t know why you’re acting surprised,” he snarls.

She stares at him for a moment, before rounding on her heel and flouncing out.

His phone buzzes about five minutes later.

**From: Alana Beck**

Hey you okay?

**To: Alana Beck**

Yeah I’m fine and I don’t want you and my sister talking about me behind my back thanks

 

She doesn’t reply. He doesn’t feel bad, just that slow, itching anger in his chest. Realising that makes him feel a little ill, remembering the look of surprise on Zoe’s face when he slammed the door open and the way she had actually leapt away from it.

He waits until Cynthia has gone into the kitchen and he can hear the blender going before picking his coat and his bag up and leaving the house. He gets as far as the bottom of the drive before realising he left his keys on his dresser but he can’t go back in so he just walks, aimlessly, until he finds a wall he can sit on and he smokes his way through three cigarettes before remembering he never actually deleted Sam Taylor’s number.

He just stares at it for a while. The numbers start to blur so he clicks the screen off. His hands are shaking so he has another cigarette. He’s only got a few left. He has no idea where the nearest 7/11 is. His sister is frightened of him. His sister flinched when he came too close.

The anger in his chest has kind of burned itself out.

He clicks his phone back on. He turned his notifications off after Alana texted him but he has ten unread messages:

**From: Zoe**

Where the fuck did you go?

Mom’s freaking out can you call her please?

I’m sorry I didn’t mean to push you

**From: Evan Hansen**

Hey are you okay? Zoe said you disappeared?

Connor?

**From: Jared Kleinman**

Dude where u @

**From: Alana Beck**

I’m sorry I didn’t mean to pry. Just know that we all care about you and if something’s wrong you can talk to any of us.

**From: Zoe**

Connor please call me

**From: Cynthia Murphy**

Connor please call me

**From: Evan Hansen**

Hey please can you call me or Zoe?

 

The last is marked from about three minutes ago. He unlocks his phone and he texts Zoe.

**To: Zoe**

I’m sorry I’m fine idk where I am but I’m on my way back

**From: Zoe**

Fuck

Jesus you fucking dick you frightened me

Fuck

Do you want me to come and pick you up??

**To: Zoe**

Idk where I am

**From: Zoe**

Give me the street name I’ll put it into maps

**To: Zoe**

idk I’m by a park?

Green Park it says

**From: Zoe**

Are you high?

**To: Zoe**

No

**From: Zoe**

On my way

 

He’s still sat on the wall when her car pulls up on the other side of the street. She gets out, crosses the road and comes to a stop beside him.   
“Wanna go for a walk?”  
“Do you mind if I smoke?”  
“You already smell like an ashtray, it’s fine.”

They wander across to the park. It’s empty, which is kind of weird, but its one of those gravelled up places where people like Sam Taylor probably hang out and get high so maybe it gets busy when the sun goes down. Zoe sits down on the swingset, walking herself up and down on a swing until the chains screech. Connor sits on the other one.

“We didn’t tell Larry,” Zoe says. “But mom was like, minutes away from calling the cops.”  
“I was gone for an hour.”  
“Yeah? How long do you need?”

She means the pills. Connor doesn’t say anything. He leans his head against the chain. Zoe swings gently to a stop.

“What’s up?”  
“I can’t tell you,” Connor says.  
“Yeah you can.”  
“No, I can’t. It’s not me, it’s someone else.”  
“Evan?”  
“ _Someone else_ , Zoe, I don’t want to talk about it.”  
“Okay.” Zoe says. She twists her mouth. “You could mime it.”

Connor smiles because she’s trying. She scrapes the toe of her sneaker over the ground.

“I’m really sorry,” he says, after a while.  
“For what?”  
“For everything.”  
“Ah, the classic blanket apology.”  
“I meant for everything I did to you. I really. I really am sorry.”  
“It’s,” she says, and then she sighs. “It’ll be fine. I mean. I wasn’t exactly the world’s best sister.”  
“Not like that’s surprising, with everything I put you through.”  
“Yeah but. I shouldn’t have said some of the things I said to you.” She walks herself round so the chains are twisted and then pushes off, swinging to a stop. “You know, um. I was in band, and my phone kept going off. Mr Howard said we could take a break so I went to call mom back and she said you were – She said you were in hospital because you’d overdosed on pills. And I. You were just in this hospital bed – mom didn’t want me to see you but I thought if you’d _died_ and the last conversation we’d had was. I mean, you didn’t even leave a note. It was like living with a stranger for years but I always missed – My brother, you know, and then you just tried to leave us and you were in hospital and you had a fucking _drip_ and mom was hysterical. And I just kept remembering – when you told Larry you wished you were dead and I said I did too and you just kind of – stared at me and you looked so far away. I knew you weren’t okay, I knew it and I didn’t try and talk to you and I didn’t try and talk to them.”  
“I don’t remember that,” Connor says, quietly. “I don’t remember you saying that.”  
“Maybe you were high,” Zoe says, and then she sniffles. She gets up off the swing and crosses over to give Connor a hug, “I don’t want you to die, I never did.”

When they get home, Connor’s exhausted – more emotionally drained than anything else, but Larry’s back and Cynthia told him and he’s furious. Connor just stands by the door and watches him shout – it’s kind of a weird experience, like he’s not really there, like he’s watching it on the TV in the Hansens’ sitting room with Evan’s head on his shoulder. He sits through dinner in silence; Zoe and Cynthia keep up a valiantly cheerful conversation as Larry scowls over the mashed potatoes. Then he goes to bed, gets under the covers, texts Alana and Evan an apology and goes straight to sleep. 

* * *

 

When he goes downstairs the next morning, Larry's already left for work but Cynthia is on her laptop in the kitchen, going through vegan recipes online.   
“Hey Con,” she says, absently, as Connor goes for a glass of water.   
“Mom,” he says, when he’s run the tap until the water’s spilled over the rim of the glass and his hands are numb. “When – When am I meant to see Dr West next?”  
“Huh?” Cynthia turns around, pushing her reading glasses up on top of her head. “Dr West? I don’t know, next Saturday, I think. It’ll say on the calendar.”  
“Can we try and make an appointment sooner?”  
“Yeah,” Cynthia says. She frowns at him. “What’s wrong? Is this about what happened yesterday?”

Connor drains the glass of water for something to do.

“I don’t think I can explain it to you,” he says.  
“You can try. You know that, right?”  
“I can try,” Connor repeats. “Yeah – okay, but it gets. Confusing, and.”  
“Come here,” she says, pulling out the chair beside her. He goes, props his elbows on the table and rubs his eyes with the backs of his hands until his vision blurs.  
“Okay,” he says. “But you can’t tell – anyone, okay? Not Zoe or Larry or – anyone.”  
“Okay,” she says. “I promise.”  
“Evan tried to kill himself,” Connor says. He watches his mom’s mouth drop into an ‘o’. “He broke his arm because he tried to jump out of a tree and he wanted to die.”  
“Oh, Con,” Cynthia says.  
“Um. It. I can’t – I can’t stop thinking about it.”  
“About suicide?”   
“About Evan.”  
“Okay,” she says. She reaches across the table to take his hand. “Maybe that’s because you went through the same thing? And now that you know it happened to Evan, you can see how awful it was. You hate the idea of it because it happened to someone you care about. And there’s tension there, between the idea of it happening to Evan and what you went through. That’s a lot to sort out in one head.”

Connor thinks about this. Behind her, Cynthia’s computer goes dark.

“I don’t want to go back to a place where I think killing myself is the only option,” he says. He hears himself from very far away. Cynthia nods. “But I’m really – I’m scared that I will.”  
“Things are very different now.”  
“Yeah,” he says. “But they could go back to being bad. They could go back and then.”

She watches him quietly for a while. “No,” she says. “No, Con, they won’t ever be like they were last year. You’ve got us. Whatever happens with Evan and Alana, and that other boy – Jared? You have me and your father and your sister. It doesn’t matter what else is happening, if it gets bad again you are always going to have us.”

Connor thinks that he managed to push them away pretty successfully last time.

Then he thinks that it’s been a very long time since he and his mom had a conversation like this. It’s been a very long time since he asked Zoe for help, since she was willing to come and sit in silence with him when he needed it. Maybe he doesn’t have Larry – maybe he’s never had Larry to count on but he thinks he can be okay with trusting them.

He stays quiet, just nods and she gets up and gives him a hug, scraping his hair off his forehead and she doesn’t say anything about getting it cut, just presses a kiss to his temple and stays there.

* * *

 

**To: Alana Beck**

I really am sorry about yesterday

**From: Alana Beck**

It’s fine

Do you want to talk about it?

**To: Alana Beck**

Yes

 

“Connor!” Alana says, when she opens the door. “Come in!”

Connor’s never been to her house before – it’s nice, big, but Connor imagines it’d probably be quite empty, with just Alana. “What’s up?”

She’s in shorts and a baggy t-shirt with Zoe’s Sharpie stars drawn on it. Of course.

“Um,” Connor says. He feels awkward, standing in the hall like this, but she’s folded her arms and she’s waiting for him to say something so. “Um, I don’t – I don’t really know who else to talk to. Um, I think. With Evan – um.”  
“Do you want some tea?” she asks, business-like.

She leads him through into the kitchen and puts the kettle on and sits Connor down at the table and bustles around with seven different types of teabag –   
“Do you want lemon? I have apple and cinnamon, something called morning detox, I don’t know what’s in this one, my mom buys it, green tea, peppermint tea, Earl Grey and chamomile and lavender.”  
“Lemon sounds good.”  
“Okay,” she says.

She brings it over in a massive mug, red with the handle shaped like a dragon.  
“My mom and dad went to China last year for business, my dad brought it back for me,” she explains, folding herself into the chair opposite Connor. She blows across the surface of her tea. “Okay, what’s up with you and Evan?”  
“I think I should break up with him,” Connor says. Alana stares at him over her mug.  
“Why?”  
“Because – I can’t tell you why, it’s private, but he told me something and I can’t. I can’t help him with that because I’m – I’m _worse_ and he’s so – he’s so good to me, I mean, he found out about – something I used to do and he didn’t even – he just – he was so nice and I can’t, I want to help him but I can’t help him like that but he needs – ”  
“Stop panicking,” Alana says, firmly. “You’re his boyfriend, not his therapist. You don’t have to help him with anything.”  
“What if I make him worse?” Connor says.  
“That’s not how it works, and you know it’s not.”  
“But – I’m _so_ fucked up and he’s – he’s getting better, y’know, he’s applied to college and for a job and I don’t want to – drag him down – ”  
“You have an incredibly low opinion of yourself,” Alana says, blinking at him. Connor makes a face at her. He thinks that should be pretty obvious. “You’re not going to break him, Connor. And the job, and college – that’s stuff he’s been working through and up to his whole life. It’s not like he’s found a magic cure. He’s still got anxiety, he still sees his therapist, he still takes the meds. If he backslides – if he gets worse, that’s not your fault.”  
“But,” Connor says.  
“No,” she says, firmly. “You’ve been very good for him, but at the end of the day, he still has to deal with this kind of thing on his own and with professional help. Not you.” She curls her hands around her mug. “He wasn’t – asking you to do anything like that, right?”  
“Of course not,” Connor says. He doubts if Evan even knows how to say something like that.   
“Okay,” she says. “I don’t know what he said that made you freak out like this, but. The only valid reason you would have to end things is if – whatever he’s dealing with is going to make you worse.”

Connor considers it. “I don’t think it would,” he says, slowly. “I mean. He makes me happy – happier than I thought I would be, ever, so – I think – ”  
“Okay,” she says, easily. “Then don’t break up with him. It really is that simple.”

He takes a sip of his tea for something to do. It’s still too hot and it burns the roof of his mouth.

“You’re pretty clever, you know that?” he says.  
“I’ve been told,” she says, smiling. “Hey, as one mentally ill person to another – and then I’ll drop it, I promise – it’s okay to have bad days and it’s okay to have things that are too much to deal with. It doesn’t mean you don’t care about people. Okay, consider it dropped. Do you want to see my prom dress? It just came and I’m _dying_ for someone to see it but I can’t show Zo, obviously – ”  
“I thought the don’t see the dress before she wears it thing was just for weddings,” Connor says.  
“Do you want to see it or not?”  
“Yeah, okay.”   
“You can bring your tea upstairs,” she says, picking up her mug to lead him out of the room.   
“Just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I’m gonna be good at, like, fashion advice though. If you need that – ”  
“Despite your alarming proclivity for dressing like a wannabe vampire slayer with a Nirvana fetish – ” she laughs over his spluttering – “you are still the best dressed one in the group, excepting me and your sister.”  
“That’s only because Jared thinks short sleeved shirts are a good look,” Connor says. And then, a little protective, “Evan dresses fine.”  
“Evan has six versions of the same polo shirt,” Alana says. “Stay here, I’ll go get changed.”

She deposits him by her desk, takes a clothes bag from the wardrobe door and hurries out. Her chair isn’t a spinning one, which is kind of boring. Maybe she thinks it’d be distracting. She’s got stacks and stacks of Post-Its, all yellow, and loads of thumb tacks and a box full of paperclips, and highlighters arranged in rainbow order. It’s scary levels of organised.

 

**To: Evan Hansen**

Do you think I dress like a wannabe vampire slayer with a nirvana fetish?

**From: Evan Hansen**

No???

Also sorry but Jared’s here and he read your message and he’s still laughing

He just fell off the couch

**To: Evan Hansen**

Do you really have 6 of the same polo shirt?

**From: Evan Hansen**

5 now :( one of them shrunk in the wash

Jared wants to know who told you you dress like that because he wants to bring them flowers

**To: Evan Hansen**

Wow

Alana

**From: Evan Hansen**

Don’t judge Buffy

He’s still smiling down at his phone when Alana shuffles back into the room.  
“What do you think?” she says. “I mean, I’ll be in heels and I’ll have my hair and makeup –”  
“Wow,” Connor says. “You look really – really pretty, Alana.”

She gives a little twirl, laughing. The dress balloons out around her ankles. “Are you just being nice or do you really mean that?”  
“I’m never nice, I really mean it.”  
“You’re sweet.”  
“Ew, no.”

She laughs, crossing the room to give him a hug. “I’m glad you’re coming. It wouldn’t have been the same without you.”

When she tries to pull back, he holds on a little tighter for a moment and she doesn’t say anything, just stays there until he’s ready to let her go. 

* * *

 

**To: Evan Hansen**

hey can we talk today

**From: Evan Hansen**

Of course :)

What’s wrong?

**To: Evan Hansen**

idk ill tell you when i see you

 

He had tried to make the messages as unthreatening as possible but when he meets Evan that afternoon, Evan is hunched over on a bench by the duck pond, his leg jogging anxiously.  
“Hi,” Connor says, dropping down beside him. Evan looks up at him. He swallows and then he says,  
“Okay if you want to break up with me I totally understand but can we please still be friends and can you not say it because I might, um, cry, sorry, and I don’t – I think that would be awkward and – ”  
“Hey, no, I don’t want to break up with you, why would you think that?”  
“You said you wanted to talk,” Evan says. He hesitates. “Really? You’re not breaking up with me.”  
“I wasn’t planning on it, no,” Connor says. The tension eases out of Evan’s shoulders a little. He nods, a few times. Connor sits back on the bench, his shoulder pressed against Evan’s, and they watch the ducks for a while in silence. Evan hasn’t shaved in a few days – he’s got stubble and that does things to Connor’s stomach and Connor wants – he _needs_ him to be okay.

“Okay,” he says, turning around to face Evan. “You know what you told me about your arm? About – you let go, you didn’t fall?”

Evan’s face closes off. “Yeah,” he says, carefully.   
“I. I know you said you didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. But I just need you to know that I understand.”  
“I do know you understand,” Evan says, gently.  
“I’m really sorry you ever went through something like that. It made me – really sad, actually, um. I can’t be – I shouldn’t be the only one who knows.” He curls his fingers into his palms. “Um – I mean, not. Look, if you were ever in that place, you need to tell someone because if you ever get there again I can’t – I won’t be any help. I’m a – I’m a mess, I spent two years of my life wanting to be dead and I’m still trying to get the hang of the whole wanting to live thing, it’s – ”  
“I did not mean to put pressure on you!” Evan cries.   
“I know you didn’t but you need to tell someone, you have to, I can’t – I can’t – you can’t.” He breathes in, sharply. “It’s not for me, that I need you to tell someone – you need to tell someone so you can get help?”  
“I got help,” Evan says, patiently. “I’m fine, I’m not there anymore. But it’s different– with your arms, and – the pills – ”  
“No,” Connor says. “No, it’s not different. If you ever considered suicide – you actually tried to do it, Evan, I. I need you to be safe, okay. I know what that’s like and I don’t want you to ever have to go through something like that again. You’re always talking about how that lot’s there for _me,_ well, they’re meant to be there for you too. You don’t – I’m not saying you have to tell your mom, or that you have to tell Jared or something. But maybe – ”

Evan’s staring at him.

“Okay,” he says. He takes Connor’s hands. “Okay, it’ll be okay. I’ll tell someone – I’ll. I’ll tell Dr Sherman. I’ll tell him, it’ll be okay.”  
“Okay,” Connor says. Evan’s hands are warm. He tries concentrating on them instead of the dull roar in the back of his head. “I know what that’s like and I don’t want you to ever feel like that again.”  
“I. I don’t want to either but I can’t _promise_ – ”  
“I know,” Connor says. “I know, but.”  
“I know,” Evan says, and he probably does, he really, truly probably does. “Um. Is it okay if I give you a hug? Sorry, that’s kind of weird – ”

Connor leans across the bench to put his arms around Evan’s shoulders, burying his head in the crook of Evan’s neck. Evan’s arms go straight round his waist.   
“I didn’t mean to make you upset,” he says, into Connor’s hair.  
“You didn’t,” Connor says, into his shoulder. “It was just – a lot to deal with and I don’t deal with things well but I’m trying and I really am glad you told me.”  
“Okay,” says Evan.  
“Really.”  
“Okay.”   
“I’m really sorry you went through that.”

Evan doesn’t say anything. He sits back, drags the back of his hand beneath his nose.  
“Um,” he says. “I don’t want you to think less of me?”  
“I don’t. I never would.”  
“It gets – I mean, I’m. You say things sometimes and I think you think – I’m not better than you? I’m not. I mean, everything gets so loud sometimes and I – I’m so grateful for you and for the others but I really don’t think I deserve you, you’re all so kind to me and I’m. Um, Jared said you kind of put me on a pedestal and I don’t – I don’t want to be on a pedestal for you because I’m not, I’m not – a good person? I panic lie and I’m awkward and difficult to be around and I’m really – I thought it was a good idea to tell you but I probably shouldn’t’ve – I’m selfish –”  
“I think we should maybe stop listening to Jared’s relationship advice,” Connor says. Evan huffs a laugh. “I don’t mean to put you on a pedestal.”  
“I like you,” Evan says. He kicks one of his feet out, scrapes it back in through the grass. “And, um. I’m a – I’m a mess. And I don’t know – I’m scared that if you, um, if you know _me_ you won’t – Want me – ” His hand twitches. “You make me feel like I can be better and I – I like that person more than I like myself.”  
“I like you,” Connor says. Evan shakes his head. “No, I do – ”  
“No, you – ”  
“Whoever you want to be. I like you. I like you. I don’t care how much of a mess you are, or how broken you feel. I really – I really do get it. I’m so sorry you’ve ever – felt like that, because it. You don’t deserve that.”

Evan wipes his hand across his eyes. He shoots Connor a smile, tiny.

“We make quite a pair, huh?”  
“I’m sorry,” Evan says.  
“Don’t be sorry. I like you and I wanna work through stuff with you. And I know that it can get loud in your head, it can get – um, mine _sucks_ so. I get it. I don’t blame you for it. I don’t want it – to be something you’re ashamed of.”

Evan stays silent for a while, staring at the grass.   
“I like you too,” he says, after a while. “And that – that would be nice.” He shakes himself, sitting up against the bench. “I’m sorry. Sorry – I, um. Do you wanna go look at the ducks?”  
“Do you know cool duck facts?”  
“Like, one,” Evan says.  
“Okay,” Connor says, standing up. He holds out his hand to pull Evan up after him. Evan takes it.

* * *

 

 The rest of the week is kind of a write-off. He spends Wednesday watching TV – Evan comes round in the evening and stays for dinner, which is nice. After school on Thursday, Zoe tries out the different makeup styles she’s thinking of using for prom and she makes Connor sit in the bathroom with her and help her choose, even though Connor really can’t tell the difference between the peach eyeshadow and the copper, except one maybe has more glitter in it? Is that a good thing? Jared says yes, when Zoe makes a frustrated sound and FaceTimes him.

Then Jared comes round and he brings Evan to distract Connor so they sit in the bath and watch. The taps are digging uncomfortably into Evan’s back so he ends up sitting between Connor’s legs, tracing shapes on the back of Connor’s hand and his wrist and Connor feels him laugh when Jared and Zoe start fighting over lipstick colours, the vibrations of it.

“How the fuck are you so good at this?” Zoe demands, when Jared elbows her out of the way and digs through her makeup bag instead.  
“Ah, I’ve been doing cosplay makeup for _years_. And I had a thing with a girl at camp this summer, y’know, I was experimenting with bisexuality but nah, I’m definitely gay. She was good at makeup though and there wasn’t much else to do with Evan not there to tell me boring ass facts about trees, so we just started trading tips.”  
“They’re not boring,” Connor protests, mildly. Evan goes scarlet.   
“Do you want to do my makeup for prom?” Zoe asks, hopefully. Jared considers it.  
“Alright,” he says. “But only ‘cos that’ll mean I see both Murphys before their dates and that is the kind of thing I can use as currency for _years_.”  
“Fuck you,” Connor says.  
“I thought we were going as a group, anyway,” Zoe points out. She sits on the toilet seat lid when Jared asks her to. “It’s easier to explain to our parents.”  
“Yeah, sure, you can say we’re going as a group but if four of you are going home to bang afterwards, you’ve got dates.”  
“I’m not – _Jared_!” Evan says. Jared cackles.  
“That’s my sister, watch your fucking mouth,” Connor snaps. Jared holds his hands up but he’s still smirking.  
“Like you can talk,” Zoe says. Jared says,  
“Don’t open your eyes!”  
“Shut up,” Connor mumbles. Evan, smiling, turns his head so Connor presses a kiss to his cheek.  
“Gay,” Jared says.  
“Shut up, our mom’s downstairs,” Zoe says.   
“Okay, you’re done,” Jared says, stepping back. Zoe turns to look at herself in the mirror.  
“Woah,” she says. “Dude. You made me look so pretty!”  
“You are pretty, Zo,” Evan says, and Connor has to hide his face in Evan’s shoulder for a moment.  
“That’s why you’re my favourite,” Zoe says, beaming at him.

* * *

 

 He goes into school again on Friday, mostly because Larry was threatening to stay and work from home so Cynthia could go to her Zumba class and there’d be someone to check on Connor.

Mrs Lin puts on Secrets of the Amazon in Biology, so Connor draws a tiny Evan Hansen on the inside corner of his sketchbook. He asks to be excused from Chemistry – they’re doing Bunsen burner experiments and people keep sending him looks like they’re expecting him to throw one or something – he doesn’t know, he doesn’t care, he doesn’t particularly want to be there. He goes to the library and finds a copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ and he quite likes it, actually.

At dinner, his parents and Zoe are all excitedly talking about prom – Zoe’s dress, Alana’s dress –

“I think it’s so nice you’ve become such good friends with Alana!” Cynthia says and Zoe chokes on her peas.  
“Yeah,” she agrees, eyes streaming. “We’re great – pals.”

That makes Connor laugh as well. Larry and Cynthia look bewildered between them.  
“Am I missing something?” Cynthia says. Zoe sobers up immediately, wiping her eyes.  
“No mom sorry, it’s just – ”  
“An inside joke,” Connor suggests.  
“Exactly. Wouldn’t make sense if we explained it.”

“Are you looking forward to it, Con?” Cynthia asks.   
“Not really,” says Connor.  
“Can you try and take part in social activities without the sarcastic commentary?” Larry says, tiredly.  
“I don’t know,” Connor says. “I’ve never tried.”

Larry rolls his eyes, but he drops it and Connor isn’t feeling _angry_ so much as a little amused so. It’s progress. 

* * *

 

The prom doesn’t start until half seven, but apparently Cynthia thinks they need three and a half hours to get ready because her friend Sylvia comes round at four. They went to high school together – Sylvia is kind of the only cool person Cynthia knows. She did Zoe’s ear piercings and Connor’s second ear piercings which was Cynthia trying to exert some control over Connor’s decision making but it wasn’t a bad decision, actually, because the place Connor got his first ones done was shut down about a week after he went there for health code violations.

They went to high school together and Sylvia has all sorts of stories about Cynthia when she was Connor’s age or younger, doing things that makes Cynthia flap her hands and squawk indignantly. They’re gushing over Zoe’s hair at the minute and Sylvia’s trying to persuade her to let _her_ do her makeup instead of Jared.   
“No, it’s really important to him,” Zoe says, as Sylvia drags a comb through her hair.   
“I didn’t think Jared seemed like the kind of boy who’d be interested in – that sort of thing,” Cynthia says, carefully.  
“That’s ‘cos gay people are normal people with normal, varied interests,” Zoe says. Sylvia hides a smirk by going to plug in the hair dryer.   
“Oh, your mom knows that,” she says, and then turns the hair dryer on which muffles Cynthia’s sounds of protest. Connor laughs at her, sat on the other side of the table with his head on his arms because Cynthia wanted him to _participate._ Sylvia turns to point the comb at him. “I can do something with _you_ instead, if you want?”  
“Absolutely not,” says Connor. He slips out when they start arguing about whether to put Zoe’s hair up or down and goes to hide in the garage.

Well, that was the original plan, except Larry’s in there.   
“Sorry,” says Connor, already halfway out the door.  
“Hey, no, come here and hold this steady.”  
“Um,” says Connor. “Okay.”

Larry’s trying to fix the tumble dryer, which finally gave up on them two days ago.   
“I thought mom wanted you to call the company,” Connor says, once Larry’s directed him on what to hold and for how long.   
“Well, I’d like to give it a go myself first.”  
“But you’re just gonna break it more.”  
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” He sits back and puts his hand in the drum to spin it. “It’s not clicking anymore, at least.”  
“Yeah, ‘cos that’s all that qualifies a good dryer. It doesn’t sound like an extra from West Side Story.”

Larry frowns at him. “What?”  
“West Side – Never mind.”

Larry picks up a screwdriver and disappears back into the drum. Connor moves up to sit on the workbench. He used to spend hours in here with his dad, just watching him attempt to fix things. He doesn’t think he’s been in the garage in years. It still looks exactly the same; Larry’s car parked by the door, the washing basket perched on a chair Connor kicked the seat through when he was fourteen, the worktable, the portable radio playing 80s hits.

“Don’t think you’ve been in here in years,” Larry says, sitting back on his heels. Connor shrugs. “Did they threaten to do your hair too, or something?”  
“Yeah, something like that.”  
“That’s what happens when you grow your hair so long.”

Connor flips him off but he’s still halfway in the tumble dryer and he doesn’t see. It’s probably for the best.

“Come here, I need you to hold something again.”

Connor goes and holds it – a tiny plastic pin – in place while Larry goes to fetch the wrench. He comes back humming along to the song on the radio.  
“This used to be my favourite band,” he says. “Move your hand.”  
“How am I supposed to hold it if I move my hand? Telepathy?”  
“Don’t backchat,” Larry says. “Just move so I can see.”  
“Jesus.”  
“I saw your friend Evan’s mom the other day,” Larry says. “At the gas station.”  
“Okay,” Connor says, slowly.   
“She said you spend a lot of time with him.”  
“Oh,” Connor says. He _knew_ Heidi didn’t like it, he _knew_ it –   
“You know your friends are welcome here. I like Evan. That girl you spend time with. The – strange boy with the Star Wars backpack – ”  
“You like them so much you remember their names and everything.”  
“Connor,” Larry says, tiredly, but he doesn’t continue. He sits back and gets slowly to his feet, leaning over the machine to check the manual. Connor shuffles back as well, leaning against the worktable to check his phone.

 

**From: Evan Hansen**

Is Jared really doing Zoe’s makeup???

She wasn’t joking??

**To: Evan Hansen**

Yeah idk either

**From: Evan Hansen**

How are you feeling?

**To: Evan Hansen**

Ok

Better I think

**From: Evan Hansen**

I’m glad <3

**To: Evan Hansen**

How are you feeling

**From: Evan Hansen**

Okay

Kind of nervous haha

**To: Evan Hansen**

About what?

**From: Evan Hansen**

Seeing people, wearing a suit, the food, my mom, what if someone makes me dance

**To: Evan Hansen**

Are you looking forward to anything?

Evan?

**From: Evan Hansen**

Seeing you

And spending time with the others

**To: Evan Hansen**

Ok :) focus on that and we’ll get to the other stuff when it happens ok?

**From: Evan Hansen**

Okay

**To: Evan Hansen**

What’s the first thing you need to do?

**From: Evan Hansen**

Shower

**To: Evan Hansen**

Go do that then text me back

 

“I think we fixed it,” Larry says, stepping back. “Shall we give it a test run?”  
“Uh. Sure?”  
“Grab the clothes over there,” Larry says. Connor does. They load the drum half full and then Larry fiddles with the dial until it hums on. Larry nods, folding his arms, satisfied.  
“Patience and care,” he says, triumphant. “I told you I could fix it.”

Connor nods. He thinks, _yes, but I wasn’t a machine._ He doesn’t say it. 

* * *

 

Jared turns up at six. Sylvia is still in the kitchen; she and Jared hit it off immediately, which is probably worrying. Zoe’s in tights and her heels and her dressing gown. Her hair’s half-up, half-down, which was probably a compromise between what she wanted and what Cynthia wanted, but she looks happy.  

Jared does her makeup and then Sylvia neatens it up while he leans over to watch, making little hums of interest. He arrived in his suit, so Cynthia made him put one of her aprons on – red and white polka dots with a lace trim. Zoe takes a photo and puts it on Instagram – it does look ridiculous, especially with his ruffled shirt, but he poses anyway, taking it in stride.

Cynthia fixes him a snack when Zoe goes up to put her dress on.   
“Thanks Mrs M,” he says. “Looks delicious.”  
“They’re vegan,” Cynthia says, proudly. Connor makes a face at Jared; Jared keeps steady eye contact as he breaks a piece of the brownie off and puts it in his mouth, chewing slowly.  
“Mmmm,” he says. “Moist.”

“You don’t have to eat it,” Connor says, when Cynthia’s bustled off to help Zoe. Sylvia’s gone into the family room with Larry. Jared’s already picking up crumbs on the pad of his finger.  
“Nah, it’s nice. Kosher. Never had a vegan brownie before. Didn’t know you were vegan, actually.”  
“I’m not,” Connor says. “Just Cynthia.”  
“Why?”  
“I dunno.”  
“So are you gonna turn up to prom in jeans and a Bowie t-shirt? ‘Cos, I mean, dude I wanna see that but Alana’s gonna flip, you’ll throw off all her photos – ”  
“No,” Connor says. “Cynthia wouldn’t let me leave the fucking house.”  
“You don’t have to keep me company.”  
“I don’t mind,” Connor says, a little aggressively, but Jared shrugs and smiles and goes back to his brownie. “Have you spoken to Evan today?”  
“Nope,” Jared says, glancing towards the open door. “Well, yeah, but not since lunchtime. He was freaking out earlier but I missed the messages. He said you calmed him down.”

Connor shrugs, suddenly very interested in the grain of the table.

“You’re pretty good at that,” Jared continues. “I mean, I’ve been friends with the guy my whole life and I can’t diffuse him like you can.”  
“Okay,” Connor says, because the idea that he’s _good_ at something, that he helps Evan in even a fraction of the way Evan has helped him – it’s too much for him to deal with in front of Jared Kleinman. “I’m gonna go.”  
“Okay,” Jared drawls.

Larry comes up as Connor is wrestling with his tie.   
“I’ll do it,” he says, from the doorway.  
“Um,” says Connor. “Okay.”

They stand there in awkward silence until Larry claps a hand on Connor’s shoulder. He doesn’t say anything. Maybe the shoulder-clasp was supposed to convey something.  
“ _Alana’s here_!” Jared yells, up the stairs.   
“I’m gonna go –  say hi – ” Connor says. Larry nods. He doesn’t move so Connor has to slip past him to go downstairs.   
“You look almost hot,” Jared says, approvingly. He’s sat on the bottom step eating Red Vines with Sylvia. “’Cept for the hair.”  
“You’re gonna get sick if you eat that much sugar,” Connor says. “And fuck you.”  
“Homophobic,” Jared tells him. Connor ignores this. Alana’s voice is coming from the kitchen so he goes in there. She and her dad are stood by the table, with Cynthia and her vegan brownies.   
“You look really. Nice,” Connor says, to Alana. She beams at him. She comes up to his chin in her heels, which is still weirdly tall for her, and she’s glowing.   
“I’d hug you but you’ll crease me,” she says. “I’ll blow you kisses.”

Jared pretends to catch them and put them in his pocket.

“You must be – Connor?”  
“Yeah, uh, hi.”  
“Anthony Beck.”  
“Nice to meet you, sir.”  
“ _Alana’s here_?”

Zoe’s voice carries from her bedroom.

“She’s coming down, bitches, get your butts in here. Sorry, Mr Murphy – ”  
“Larry’s fine, Jack.”  
“Jared – ”

Alana takes Connor’s hand to drag him into the hall. Jared does a drumroll on his thighs. Cynthia has her camera raised threateningly.

Zoe’s dress is blue – a few shades lighter than the streaks in her hair. She comes carefully down the stairs, gripping the bannister; she stops when Cynthia tells her to, moves when Cynthia tells her to get away from the light, rolls her eyes, sticks her tongue out at Connor, blows kisses at Alana, makes finger guns at Jared.

“You look beautiful,” Alana tells her, when she reaches the bottom.   
“Look at _you_!” Zoe gushes. She jumps up and down, hanging off Jared’s arm. “God, we’re gonna be the hottest – people there! Nice suit,” she adds, tweaking Jared’s lapel.

Alana and Zoe want to take photos together. Zoe puts her arm around Alana’s waist; in one, she presses a kiss to Alana’s cheek. Connor and Jared sit on the steps and eat the last of the Red Vines between them and then Connor’s phone starts ringing so he goes into the kitchen –

“Hey, where are you?”  
“Outside, I’m sorry I’m late.”  
“Are you okay?”  
“Um,” Evan says. Connor can hear Heidi talking in the background.  
“It’s okay if you don’t want to come – ”  
“No, I do, I just had a bad morning but I’m better now, here, mom, on the left – ” He cuts off for a moment and then he’s back. “Um, sorry, this is really – weird – um, could you come outside?”  
“Yep,” Connor says. He goes round the back so he doesn’t interrupt the photoshoot by the stairs, even though that means he has to kind of climb over a bush. Heidi’s car is parked on the curb behind Zoe’s. Connor knocks on the passenger seat window. Evan rolls it down.  
“You look great, hon,” Heidi says.  
“Thanks,” Connor says, suddenly very self-conscious about the suit and the fact he just climbed through a bush. Evan’s smiling at him, all soft and warm suddenly and that makes the pit of Connor’s stomach drop out and then they’re just staring at each other until Heidi coughs.  
“Um,” says Evan. “Sorry.”

Connor moves back onto the sidewalk so Evan can get out of the car. He smooths down his pants, nervously.

“You sure you’re okay?”  
“Yeah, I just – ”  
“We had a nervous morning,” Heidi explains, coming round to join them.   
“We don’t have to stay for the whole thing,” Connor says. Evan nods.   
“Yeah. Yeah – it’ll probably be fine when I’m there, it’s just the build up, I think?”  
“ _Evan_!”

The front door’s banged open and Zoe’s waving at them from the porch. Connor rolls his eyes.  
“Sorry.”  
“You look _amazing_!” Evan calls.   
“You look _hot_!” Zoe calls. “Come inside! Alana and Jared are here!” She gives them thumbs up.   
“We can stay out here as long as you want, ignore her,” Connor says.   
“Yeah, but it’s probably weird if we do,” Evan says. “If everyone’s in there.” He shakes himself. “Right. Let’s do this.”  
“Let’s do this!” Heidi says. She looks more excited than Evan. 

* * *

 

It takes them another forty minutes until they leave. Heidi is even worse than Cynthia – she brought her own camera and they go through every possible combination of people until even Alana is rolling her eyes.

Then they have to work out how to fit five of them into Zoe’s car without crushing any dresses, until Anthony and Larry offer to drive them in two cars and leave Zoe’s in the car park for the way back. And then Connor ends up in a car with his dad, Evan and Jared which means it isn’t until they’re actually on school property that he can find an excuse to grab Evan’s hand and tug him down the nearest corridor.

The lights haven’t been turned on – only the safety ones, and it’s the science corridor so the displays are lit by this weird greenish-yellow glow.   
“I didn’t say it earlier but you look really nice,” Connor says, as they stop by the little alcove between the lockers and Mrs Lin’s classroom.   
“So do you,” Evan says, and then he pushes up on tiptoe and kisses him. His hands are steady on Connor’s neck, not at all sweaty which means he isn’t nervous, despite his horrible morning – Connor doesn’t make him nervous and that’s.

It’s good.

When they go towards the gym, Evan reaches out and takes his hand.   
“You ready?” Connor asks, when they’re outside the doors. Evan laughs.  
“Not at all,” he says, and then they push the doors open and Connor goes first, shouldering his way through the crowd with Evan following him and mumbling apologies.

Alana has secured them a table at the back, because she was on the committee and also she’s pretty great.   
“Hey,” Jared says, wiggling his eyebrows at them. “Have fun?”  
“Fuck off,” Connor tells him, succinctly, pulling Evan’s chair out for him. Evan mumbles something incoherent, flushing red and turning immediately to Zoe for a hug. They gush over each other for a full minute. Connor turns to Alana.  
“The decorations are – not shit,” he says.  
“High praise,” she says. “I wasn’t in charge of them anyway.”  
“You mean this isn’t the product of the Alana dictatorship?” Jared asks. Alana pushes her hair over one shoulder loftily and doesn’t answer.

They have dinner mostly undisturbed. Some of Zoe’s senior friends from band come over to say hi; a few of Alana’s acquaintances and someone from Jared’s Trig class. Connor doesn’t have to talk to any of them so he doesn’t mind – he and Evan keep to themselves and if any of them give him weird looks, Connor doesn’t notice them for once. It’s not until the plates have been cleared away that Brian Harris comes over.

“Hey, Murphy.”

Brian puts his hands on the back of Zoe’s chair. She leans away from it, into Jared, who swings an arm around her shoulders.

“Didn’t think you’d show,” Brian says.  
“Yeah, well I couldn’t resist seeing you in a suit,” Connor says. “It looks just as stupid as I thought it would. Fuck off now, thanks.”

Brian rolls his eyes. “What about you, Zo? Wanna dance?”  
“I’m literally here with my girlfriend,” Zoe says. Alana waves, pointedly. Brian looks from one to the other, eyebrows raised.  
“No way? I thought that was a joke.”  
“Why would it be a joke?” Zoe says, acidly. Brian holds his hands up.   
“Hey, whatever, just a pity.”  
“Can you stop being creepy and go?” Zoe says. Connor hadn’t realised he’d balled his hands up until Evan’s uncurling them, locking their fingers together.   
“Whatever,” Brian says, pushing off her chair. “You look hot, anyway. I’m sat over there if you get bored of – whatever shit’s going on here.”  
“Fuck you,” Connor snarls.  
“Yeah, you’d like that.”  
“Connor,” Evan says, firmly. Connor sinks back down in his seat. Alana says,  
“Brian? If you don’t want the principal to find out who spiked the punch at the Sadie Hawkins dance, you’ll fuck off now okay?”

Brian stares at her for a minute. Then he rolls his eyes and wanders off. Alana takes a sip of her water and pats her lips with her napkin.  
“Is my lipstick still on?” she asks.  
“We had a Sadie Hawkins dance?” Connor asks.  
“How the fuck do you know he spiked the punch?” Zoe says.  
“Dude, that was _so cool_.” Jared says.   
“I hate him,” Evan says. “He’s such a dick.”

Alana hums pensively. Zoe stands up, holds her hand out across the table.  
“Do you want to dance?” she asks.

There are already a few couples on the dancefloor, but the DJ is still in his early noughties phase so most people are hanging back. Alana beams, gathers her dress up in one hand, takes Zoe’s with the other and they go off together.  
“And then there were three,” Jared says, folding his arms behind his head. “Alright, drinking game. Every time someone comes over to make sure they’ve got our vote for prom queen.”  
“We don’t have alcohol so we’ll just need to pee,” Connor says. “That’s a shit drinking game.”  
“Hey, hey!” Jared says. He reaches into the pocket of his suit jacket and brings out a tiny hipflask. “I promised you booze, Buffy, and a Kleinman always delivers.”  
“Put that away, you’ll get in trouble,” Evan says, nervously. Jared glances over his shoulder – no one’s watching, so he splits the contents of the flask three ways, hands two cups across the table and keeps one for himself.

The rules Jared comes up with mean the contents of their cups is gone very quickly. It wasn’t much alcohol – just enough to take the edge of Connor’s nerves. Zoe and Alana come back to their table when the third Rihanna song in a row starts playing; Zoe comes to put her arms around Connor and Evan’s shoulders. “Come dance with us,” she says.  
“Oh no way,” Connor says.  
“No, I’m good,” Evan says. Zoe makes a face. Jared’s already letting Alana pull him out of his seat so the three of them go off to dance together and then it’s just Connor and Evan. They smile at each other nervously and then Connor starts laughing. Evan wrinkles his nose.  
“What?”  
“Nothing. This is just – weird, I did not imagine myself here, with you and them and –”  
“Good weird?” Evan asks, leaning in.  
“Very good weird,” Connor says, and kisses him.

 They stay to hear the announcements for prom king and queen because Alana cares, for some reason, and then they leave – to Jared’s house instead of one of the four after parties Alana was invited to by various acquaintances. Connor – finally – loses his tie; Evan his jacket; Zoe and Alana ditch their shoes and Jared swaps the ruffled shirt for a t-shirt. He puts on ABBA and grabs Evan’s hands, swinging him around in a circle. Evan laughs, lets Zoe spin him awkwardly. They all end up jumping around to Mamma Mia while Jared sings into a beer bottle and at half two, Zoe drives everyone back.

She and Connor end up staying up until quarter to four, eating their way through a pack of Oreos as Zoe flicks through Instagram, giving him a running commentary on everyone's outfits.

Somehow, it’s one of the best nights he’s ever had.

 


	5. Summer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am out of words - thank you so, so much to everyone who's been so incredibly kind!! It means so much. Warnings for underage drinking, references to panic attacks and suicide attempts and smoking.

**From: Alana Beck**

I had an idea

**To: Alana Beck**

Every time you say that my heart fills with dread

**From: Alana Beck**

What if you drew stuff and we put our voices over it

So we could talk about our experiences without putting our faces to it

**To: Alana Beck**

Ok

That’s a shit idea

I’m not that good at drawing and evan doesn’t want to talk about his anxiety either so itd just be you and jared and zoe I guess

**From: Alana Beck**

That’s not true

Zoe talked to your parents about talking about their experiences and Jared said his cousin might want to get involved

Connor stares at the message for a moment, frowning.

 

**To: Zoe**

did you ask Cynthia and Larry to talk about me for alana’s video without asking me?

**From: Zoe**

What?

**To: Zoe**

I don’t know how to make that more obvious

**From: Zoe**

You’re literally next door just come and talk to me?

Connor doesn’t want to talk to her because he thinks it’ll be easier to stay calm if he’s alone but then she’s swung round his doorway.  
“What are you talking about?” she says.   
“Alana said that you’d talked to Cynthia and Larry about sharing their experience for her video? For the website?”  
“Yeah?” Zoe says, slowly.   
“And you didn’t ask me?”  
“Why would I ask you?” Zoe says. Connor stares at her. She stares back. Then she says, “oh, my God, not _everything_ is about you? I literally meant their experiences, generally? How they met or whatever? Not – dealing with you. Jesus, what the fuck do you think I am? Of course I’d have asked you.”

The tension that had been building up in Connor’s chest eases immediately.

“Oh,” he says.   
“ _Oh_ ,” Zoe mimics, rolling her eyes.   
“I just. Because we’ve been focusing on mental health – I kind of – assumed – ”  
“Yeah, no shit,” Zoe says. She leans her head against the doorway. “Although, that’s not actually a bad idea? We’ve been getting some emails in from parents – it might be good to have a parent’s perspective – ”  
“Veto,” Connor says. “If you want a parent, ask Heidi.”  
“Yeah, okay,” Zoe says. “Like Evan will be okay with that.”

Connor concedes this. Zoe comes further into his room.

“Why are you _so_ against this idea? ‘Cos I think it’s a pretty good one – ”

The idea of people Connor knows – Brian Harris, Sam Taylor, Mrs Lin – seeing it makes his skin crawl. The idea of them having any kind of insight into the levels of fucked up he is –

“I just don’t want it that public,” he says.   
“Why not?”  
“I just don’t.”

She considers him for a moment, folding her arms. “You know you aren’t the only person who’s ever suffered from mental illness, right?”  
“Yes,” he snaps.   
“And, like. You are actually helping people? On the website? People find it useful hearing you talk about your own experiences. It makes them feel less alone. Like Evan’s speech. You’re kind of, like – a recovery story?”  
“No,” Connor says, sharply. “No, I’m not. I don’t want to be.”  
“Why not?”   
“I just. I don’t want to be. I’m not – I’m not _better_ –”  
“I didn’t mean that,” she says.  
“Yeah but. I don’t want to be – I’m not – ”  
“Okay,” she says, hurriedly, trying to placate him. She sounds like Cynthia. “No one’s going to force you into talking about anything. But, you know, if Alana or Jared feel up to it?”

Connor nods.

* * *

 

 They have a week left of school and their teachers have kind of given up on actually teaching them. In Algebra, they’re allowed to talk amongst themselves while Mr Apcot grades papers, which means Connor puts his head on his arms and tries to catch up on the sleep he’s been missing until Evan nudges him. He turns his head.  
“Hmmm?”  
“Sorry, are you tired?”  
“Mmmm.”  
“Okay, sorry, I’ll – um.” Evan uncaps his pen, caps it again nervously, taps it against his pencil case. Connor watches him. He thinks Evan probably feels awkward just sitting there while Connor pretends to sleep so he sits up.   
“This is a waste of time,” he says.   
“Yeah,” Evan agrees. He looks less nervous now. “Are you not sleeping?”  
“No,” Connor says. He pushes his hair out of his eyes. It’s getting warm enough that the extra weight is becoming kind of annoying, but he doesn’t really want to cut it.   
“Why not?”  
“I dunno,” Connor says. Evan starts chewing his bottom lip. “What?”  
“What?”  
“You’re acting – anxious.”  
“I’m always anxious,” Evan says, a little dryly. “It’s kind of my thing.”  
“You’re acting more anxious than usual, then.” Suddenly alert, Connor looks round for Brian Harris, but he’s on the other side of the room, chatting up Sam Taylor’s ex-girlfriend. “Did someone do something to you?”  
“Remember when I said I _didn’t_ want you fighting my battles for me?”  
“Is there a battle to fight?”  
“No,” Evan says. “I’m just.” He rolls his pen beneath his palm and then says, all in a rush, “it’s stupid, I’m probably blowing it out of proportion but my dad called.”  
“Your dad?” Connor says. That’s unexpected. Evan doesn’t really talk about his dad. “When?”  
“Last night,” Evan says. “I missed it and mom was out so we only heard the message this morning and he wants me to call him back and I _hate_ talking on the phone, me and mom always remind him it’s easier to Skype ‘cos then I can, uh, at least see what his face is doing? So I know he’s not mad with me? I’m sorry that’s probably so stupid, I just. I don’t know why he’s calling ‘cos normally it’s a once a month thing, ‘cept on birthdays and holidays but we already had our call this month so. I dunno, it seems. I don’t know.”  
“You’re allowed to not want to talk to him,” Connor says.   
“I do want to talk to him,” Evan says, unconvincingly. He sighs. “Okay no I don’t.”  
“Just don’t call him back.”  
“I have to,” Evan says. “He’s my _dad_.”  
“So? Larry’s technically my dad, doesn’t mean we have heart-to-hearts every day. Or ever.”  
“Yeah,” Evan says. “But – sorry, but you live in the same house. So it’s not, um, it’s not exactly the same?”  
“Okay,” Connor says, because – fair. “What do you want to do?”  
“Not talk to him,” Evan says. The pen tapping is getting kind of annoying so Connor puts his hand over Evan’s on the desk and Evan stills instantly.   
“If you wait ‘til your mom’s home, you won’t have to do it alone,” Connor says.  
“Yeah but he said call me at seven and she won’t be home at seven.”  
“I can be there if you want?”  
“Would you?” Evan says. “Would you mind? I don’t want to – I’m sorry, I’m such a – I’m always making you do really stupid, really easy things – ”  
“I literally offered,” Connor says. “Breathe.”

Evan makes a show of taking in a breath and expelling it slowly. Connor rolls his eyes.  
“Smartass.”  
“Thanks,” Evan says. His fingers twitch beneath Connor’s which is when Connor realises he’s holding his hand in the middle of school. He lets go.   
“Have you – um, have you told your dad?”  
“About you?” Evan says, because he’s a fucking mindreader. “No. My mom told him when I came out, he’s cool with it and everything but – I dunno, he’d probably want to meet you and I don’t think I want that. I mean, not that – You’re not the problem. I just think it’d be weird to introduce you to him ‘cos I don’t – I don’t feel like I know him that well.”  
“That – sucks,” Connor says, lamely. Evan shoots him a smile.   
“Yeah?”  
“Yeah. I mean – that you feel like that about your dad. People shouldn’t have to feel like that about their parents.”

Evan drums his fingers against the desktop. He’s clearly on the verge of something else, but then the bell’s gone for the end of the lesson and they have to pack up and head out. 

* * *

 

**To: Alana Beck**

Ok do not see this as a promise or a sign that im interested in it or anything

But

Could you send me a rough idea of what you want to talk about in one of your videos?

**From: Alana Beck**

Yeah!

I’ll email the script to you?

**To: Alana Beck**

You wrote a script?

Seriously?

**From: Alana Beck**

I’ve sent it!

 

Evan comes back into the room as Connor’s loading his Gmail. He’s carrying a bag of chips which he throws at Connor before flopping down onto the couch beside him. He clicks his phone on and off again.  
“Sooner you call him, sooner you can hang up,” Connor says, opening the bag for him and holding it out. Evan takes one.   
“Yep,” he says, popping the ‘p’. “The longer I wait, the more likely it is he’ll forget.”  
“It’s not likely he’s gonna forget,” Connor says. He reaches over and unlocks Evan’s phone – the passcode is his birth year because he’s convinced he’ll forget anything else – and pulls up Evan’s dad’s contact details. He doesn’t dial but he holds the phone out. Evan is staring at him, slightly flushed. He takes the phone.  
“Okay,” he says. “If something bad happens – um – ”  
“I’ll be right here,” Connor promises, sitting back. “I’ll tell him you went into a tunnel or, uh, passed out or moved to Finland or something.”  
“Okay,” Evan says, almost laughing. He puts the phone up to his ear. Connor waits until Evan’s said, “hi, dad? It’s me – um, Evan?”

Then he pulls his own phone out again, pulling up the email Alana sent him. Her script is six pages, which is ridiculous. He’s mentally editing it when Evan throws an arm out and hits Connor in the chest. Connor looks up –  
“What?”

Evan shakes his head, pointing at the phone. Connor frowns. Evan mouths – something. Connor says,  
“What?”

Evan shakes his head, motioning Connor to go back to his phone. Connor blinks at him, confused, for a moment longer but Evan’s back to _mmm_ and _okay-_ ing.

He thinks if Alana changed the way she’s written this, it would be easier to illustrate. And he doesn’t need all the surplus details, they kind of take away from the important part of her story –

“Um, yeah, maybe, I’ll ask,” Evan says. “I mean – yeah, it would be nice but I’ll have to ask. Okay. Okay. Yeah. Okay, say hi to them for me. Yeah, I will. Okay, bye. Yeah. Bye.”

He puts the phone down and rubs his wrist against his knee. His face is kind of screwed up.   
“What happened?” Connor asks, tentatively. Evan shakes his head.  
“Um. He’s – He’s getting married,” he says.   
“Oh.”  
“Yeah.”

Connor watches him. It’s – The awkward, out of place feeling is back, like he’s too big for the Hansens’ home, like he’s going to break something if he moves. Evan’s hunched over and he’s upset and Connor has absolutely no idea what to say.

“He wants me to come to the wedding,” Evan says.   
“Oh,” says Connor. “Um. Do you want to go?”  
“No,” says Evan. He swallows. “Um. I’m.”  
“Yeah?”  
“No, I don’t want to go,” Evan says.

Connor doesn’t think he should have to go, but he knows that Evan will not see it that way, and nor will Heidi – probably.

“Um,” he says. “I don’t – I don’t know what that must feel like but if you go, I don’t know – if you don’t go you might regret it in the future? I know that you and your dad don’t have the best relationship but if you – if you go to his wedding, that could be a good step forward? Trying to make it better between you two.”

Evan doesn’t say anything.

“I know,” says Connor, and then coughs and starts again. “I mean. If it were me? And Larry? I, um. I kind of – burned all our bridges a few years back and neither of us really know how to make it better but if you have a chance – I think you’d regret not taking it.”

Evan sits up. His face is kind of blotchy but he hasn’t been crying so that’s – that’s a good thing.  
“Yeah?”  
“Yeah,” Connor says. Evan nods.   
“Okay.”  
“Okay?”  
“Yeah. I – uh, I don’t really want to talk about it anymore, if that’s okay?”

Connor shrugs. He thinks he’s gotten better at spotting when Evan’s lying, saying he’s fine when he’s not. He thinks Evan’s gotten better at asking for help.

“What do you want to talk about?”

Evan’s scratching at the knee of his khakis. “I don’t know,” he says. “We don’t have to talk.” Connor stares at him for a moment, and then Evan goes red. “Oh _no_!” he says. “Oh I didn’t mean to – proposition you like that! I meant we could watch TV!”

Connor started laughing at ‘ _proposition’._ He leans over for the remote and presses it into Evan’s hands. Evan, still pink, mumbles – “Shut up” – but takes the remote and the bag of chips from between them, sliding into the space himself. They watch _The Simpsons_ in silence for ten minutes. Then Connor says,  
“Um, y’know, I don’t _mind_ you – propositioning me.”  
“Oh,” says Evan. “Well. Good.”

Then they’re kissing, which is better than _The Simpsons_ anyway. 

* * *

On Wednesday, Evan meets Connor outside his locker.

“Hey,” Evan says, stepping up on tip-toe to press a kiss to the corner of Connor’s mouth. Connor stares at him. He isn’t entirely sure what’s happening.   
“Hi?” he says, loudly.  
“What?” Evan says.  
“Nothing. You’re just – Um, being very open about the whole – Dating me thing?”  
“Yeah,” Evan agrees. He frowns. “Oh, yeah. I don’t know, I just. It’s okay, right?”  
“Yeah,” Connor says. It’s probably the most okay thing that’s ever happened to him.  
“Are you headed home?”  
“No, Zoe’s got band. Hey, hold this. I’m waiting for her. I need to drop this back with Mrs Lin.”  
“Do you want company?”  
“Yeah,” Connor says. Evan beams.

He waits outside the classroom while Connor goes to give his textbook back. Mrs Lin is grading papers – she checks Connor’s name off the list, they have a very short, very awkward conversation and he leaves as soon as he can.

Evan’s a little further down the hallway, examining one of the displays. Connor comes up behind him, rocks up on tiptoe to comfortably rest his chin on the top of Evan’s head. Evan says,  
“Look, that one’s mine.”  
“Oh. Nice.”  
“Yeah.”

Connor steps back and Evan tightens his grip on his backpack. They head back down the hallway, towards the lockers.   
“Can’t believe we’re graduating.”  
“I know,” Connor says.   
“I didn’t really imagine myself _actually_ doing it. It always felt like high school was just going to last forever and ever.”  
“Yeah,” Connor says. He remembers this time last year; he was skipping classes to get high in the bathroom or beneath the bleachers and all the seniors were talking about college and summer jobs and he was thinking about the best way to die.

It’s strange. It’s so strange. It feels like a lifetime ago. It feels like ten minutes ago. He got so used to _death_ that he stopped thinking about anything else and it – He still gets pulled up short realising that he wants a future.

“Hey,” Evan says, softly.   
“Sorry.”  
“That’s okay,” Evan says. The hallway’s empty. He stops, bounces on the balls of his feet. “Hey, this is where we met.”  
“Uh, no, we met in home room, freshman year.”  
“You remember that?”  
“Not really.”

Evan laughs. “This is where we met properly, anyway,”  
“You mean where Jared told me I looked like a school shooter and I shoved you?”  
“Oh my God,” Evan says. “Never _mind_.”  
“I hate this place,” Connor says. The hallway’s empty. He sits down, back to the lockers, shrugging his bag down onto the floor beside him. Evan stands over him. He nudges Connor’s ankle with the tip of his shoe.   
“So do I,” he says. “But I’m glad I came here. I wouldn’t have met you, otherwise. Or Zoe, or Alana.”  
“Yeah, it’d just be you and Jared, forever,” Connor says. Evan sits down beside him, cross-legged, his backpack still on his shoulders.   
“I mean, if I’d never met you,” he says, ignoring Connor entirely, “I’d be. Um, I’d be exactly the same as I was last summer. One friend who didn’t like to call me his friend in public and so. Unhappy.”   
“I’d be dead,” Connor says. Evan puts his head on Connor’s shoulder. He doesn’t say _me too_ but Connor thinks he might be thinking it. “You – all of you. You helped me to want – to feel better.”

Evan doesn’t say anything.

There’s a lock digging into one of Connor’s shoulderblades.

Evan takes his hand, links their fingers together. He brings his knees up to his chest and then stretches them out beside Connor’s.  
“You’re tall,” he says.  
“You’re short,” Connor says.  
“No I’m not.”  
“Not really, no.”  
“Okay,” Evan says. He sits up to glance up and down the corridor before leaning in to kiss Connor, soft and slow. It’s nice. “What if we’d met earlier?” he asks, after a while.  
“I dunno,” Connor says. He doesn’t really remember home room, freshman year. He thinks Evan would probably have hated him, or been scared of him, and there wouldn’t have been any reason for him to make an effort. “I don’t really want to think about that.”  
“It worked out okay,” Evan says. “I guess.”  
“As best as it could do, really.”

Evan smiles at him, kind of slow, it starts at one corner of his mouth and spreads. Connor wants to draw it, or kiss it. He settles for squeezing Evan’s hand.

“In ninth grade,” Evan says. “You stopped Brian Harris from being a dick to me.”  
“I don’t remember that,” Connor says, though he thinks Evan might have mentioned it before.   
“Yeah, we were in the bathroom and he was asking me where my dad was and I got kind of panicky and he, uh, he said it wasn’t really a surprise that my dad had left, and then you came in and you kind of – you looked between us and I was – um, I was crying, and then you told Brian to fuck off and stop bothering me or you’d make sure he was the one crying in a bathroom.”  
“Jesus,” Connor says. “Your memory is fucking insane.”  
“It was kind of a big deal to me,” Evan says. “He didn’t really talk to me after that and I think that made a – It made a difference. I mean, I was never really bullied. I was ignored and. But they never went after me, and I think that’s because of you.”

Connor shrugs.

“I don’t remember,” he says.  
“You just – You made a difference to me. So – your high school experience – I mean, it’s been shit, I know, but you did help me and that’s. I don’t know, that’s stupid. I wish I could have done something like that for you. I’m so,” Evan says. He stops, puffs out his cheeks. Connor turns to press a kiss to his hairline.   
“It’s okay,” he says. “None of that was your fault. A lot of it was my fault. I don’t really want to talk about it though.”  
“Okay,” says Evan. He smiles up at Connor. His nose wrinkles when he does that, and it does strange things to Connor’s stomach.   
“Zo’ll be getting out of band soon. Do you want a ride home?”  
“Uh. If it won’t be a massive imposition – ”  
“You’re never an imposition,” Connor says. He pushes up and wipes his hands against his jeans before pulling Evan up after him. 

* * *

 

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

Yo 2 things

1 – do u guys want 2 come over 2 mine after grad?

2 – buffy what r u wearing under ur grad robes?

**From: Alana.Beck**

I was gonna ask if you wanted to come over to mine!

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

I have pizza rolls

**From: Alana.Beck**

I have a trampoline

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

nvm lets go 2 urs

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Why do you want to know what I’m wearing…?

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

Trying 2 work out how far 2 push my mom

If ur going full buffy its chill 4 me 2 wear my darth vader tshirt

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Oh no mom’s making him wear a shirt

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Which ill be taking off as soon as im alone

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

So… ur going shirtless?

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Fuck off

I obviously did not mean that

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

“I obviously did not mean that”

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Are you? Trying to copy me over messenger?

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

“Are you? Trying to copy me over messenger?”

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Ffs

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

“Ffs”

**From: Alana.Beck**

I left for 5 minutes and you two do this?

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

It’s cos Evan’s not here

@Evan come control your boys

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

Evan does not control me

Murphy is totally whipped however

**From: Evan_Hansen**

Yeah jared tends to do the opposite of what I ask him to do

But that sounds nice Alana if it’s okay with you and your dad :)

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Actually talking about graduation

I’m assuming everyone’s parents are gonna be there so just a reminder

Cynthia and Larry DO NOT know me and Connor are LGBT they do NOT know we’re dating Alana/Evan please be careful with what you say and remind your parents if they know??

**From: Alana.Beck**

Of course babe

**From: Evan_Hansen**

Of course!!!!

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

Yeah if I say anything just like

Throw me off the stage ok

**From: Connor_Murphy**

noted

* * *

 

“Hello,” Zoe says, slamming her tray down on the table. She swings herself in between Alana and Evan. “Can’t believe this is our last lunch together, can’t believe you’re abandoning me, can’t believe most of my best friends are seniors.”  
“Oh God, _don’t_ ,” Alana says, putting down her fork. “I’m getting so sad.”  
“Same,” Jared says, around a mouthful of potato. Evan makes a face. “Didn’t think I would be but I am.”  
“Same,” Evan says. “A bit.”  
“We should make a plan,” Zoe says. “For when you guys are gonna come back next.”  
“We literally have the whole summer,” Jared points out.   
“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Connor says. Jared flips him off.  
“Are you all gonna be here for Thanksgiving?” Alana asks.  
“Yep,” says Zoe.  
“I’m coming back for it.”  
“We could meet up then.”  
“Can we not talk about this? It’s depressing.”

They lapse into silence. Jared’s back on his phone, flicking through Instagram. Evan’s mashing his potato even further beneath his fork.  
“I’m really glad I met you guys,” he says. There’s a moment where they all kind of pause; Jared looks up from his phone, Alana from hers. Then Zoe says,  
“Aw Evan!” And pulls him into a bear-hug. Jared hops up to go round and put his arms around both of them, rocking them obnoxiously from side to side. Evan’s laughing, reaching up to pat Jared’s head. Connor’s stomach drops, but it’s not unpleasant, it’s kind of nice, knowing that any second Evan’s gonna turn around and smile at him – there, a little shy, a little amused, like they’re sharing an inside joke. Connor _really likes_ him, stupid amounts, he thinks he’d probably be a little embarrassed about it if anyone else found out but it’s okay when it’s Evan.

“Do you guys wanna do something tonight?” Alana asks, when Jared’s sat back down.   
“Can’t,” he says. “Got Friday night dinner.”  
“We’re all still on for tomorrow after the ceremony though right?” Zoe asks.

It’s nice, hearing them all talk, but it kind of washes over Connor. He doesn’t have anything else to do – Alana’s been invited to a few parties by people in her classes, Jared as well. Evan turns towards him.  
“What’s up?” he asks.  
“Nothing,” Connor says. “Just tired.”  
“Okay,” says Evan. “My dad’s calling again tonight.”  
“Why?”  
“He wants to talk to me before I graduate,” Evan says. “At least we’re Skyping this time, and mom will be there.”  
“It’s nice,” Connor says. Evan shrugs.  
“I guess but. I don’t know, it kind of feels like – he didn’t really want to parent me at any other point in my life. I think he just wants me to be okay with his wedding. I don’t even know if he’s told mom which is – ”  
“That’s not fair,” Connor says. “That’s way too much pressure to put on you.”

Evan shrugs. “My dad doesn’t really get it.”  
“ _That_ I understand,” Connor says. “I’m sorry, he seems kind of a dick.”  
“Yeah,” Evan says. “I guess.”

Zoe leans back into the conversation. “Who’s kind of a dick?”

Evan’s eyes widen, like – _don’t tell her_.  
“Larry,” says Connor.   
“Oh,” says Zoe. “Yeah, okay, you’re not wrong.”

* * *

 He’s with Evan in History anyway, and he walks back to Evan’s locker with him. It’s weirdly bare – just the books he needed for the lessons today and his jacket. Evan’s been quiet since lunch: Connor can’t tell if it’s his dad or the upcoming graduation, the fact they’ve finally finished high school and Evan’s definitely still convinced they’re all going to move on and forget about each other.

Connor isn’t convinced that he won’t see Alana and Jared much after the summer, but he’s determined not to lose Evan, so he bumps the back of his hand against Evan’s as Evan shuts his locker. Evan looks up, smiles, and takes Connor’s hand.  
“Okay?”  
“Okay.”  
“ _Gay_ ,” Jared says. He kind of jumps on them from behind, trying to throw an arm over both of their shoulders at once.   
“You don’t need to announce yourself, we can see you,” Connor says. Jared steps back.  
“Did you just make a _joke_ , Buffy?”  
“Fuck off.”  
“How was History?”  
“Okay,” Evan says. “We didn’t learn anything, we just sat around in a circle and talked about our futures. Well – the others did, we didn’t.”  
“Sounds stupid,” Jared says.  
“It was,” Connor agrees. His locker actually opens on the first try for once.  
“Hey!”

Now it’s Alana and Zoe, hand in hand.

“You missed it, Connor made a joke,” Jared says. Evan rolls his eyes.  
“I’ve cried a lot more than I thought I would today,” Alana says.   
“Nerd,” says Jared.   
“You’re done. How does freedom feel?” Zoe says, nudging Connor. He slams his locker shut; it bounces open. They all stare at it for a moment.  
“I’ve never asked,” Jared says. “Did you fuck that up yourself, or was it given to you like that?”  
“He fucked it up himself,” Zoe says.   
“Could have called that one,” Jared admits. Evan pushes the door shut and it actually stays put.   
“That kind of feels like the end of something,” Zoe says. She leans her head against Evan’s shoulder.  
“Don’t say that,” Jared says, pushing his hands into his pockets. “That’s so depressing.”  
“Not the end,” Alana says, firmly, threading her arm through Connor’s. “Just. Starting something new. Come on, let’s go.”

So they go, piling into Zoe’s car. Zoe and Jared bicker over the music; Alana reads aloud from the graduation programme she’s been emailed; Evan keeps one arm tight around his backpack and his hand tight in Connor’s. He starts laughing when Jared wins the rock-paper-scissors game he and Zoe play over the radio station. It’s a nice sound. It kind of eases the weird, nervous tension that has settled in the pit of Connor’s stomach – not completely, but it helps. 

* * *

 

On Saturday morning, Cynthia makes pancakes.

Connor isn’t really hungry but he eats them anyway, mostly because she’s been looking teary since he came down and he doesn’t want her to actually cry. Larry flips through the newspaper; Zoe’s on her phone underneath the table so Connor has to bear the full assault –

“I can’t believe how fast it’s gone, it seems like ten minutes ago that you were tiny and your dad and I couldn’t agree on a name and you had that little blue wristband, do you remember, Larry?”  
“Mmm,” Larry says. Connor thinks they’re all avoiding the elephant in the room –it’s only recently his graduation actually became a realistic future and his mom is probably emotional because he tried to kill himself in September, but he doesn’t say it. He didn’t sleep much last night – he and Evan were up until half one texting and then Evan stopped replying. Connor hopes he fell asleep but he himself didn’t drift off until the dawn light was beginning to slip through his blinds.

He looks terrible, the bags under his eyes are heavier than they’ve been in weeks and there’s a kind of itchy anxiety bubbling in his stomach at the thought of having to go back into school surrounded by everyone. There was a moment last night when Cynthia suggested car-pooling with the Harrises but Zoe shut it down –

“I’m gonna go upstairs,” he says, pushing back from the table.  
“We’re still eating, sit down,” Larry says, without looking up.   
“It’s alright, Con, go get ready,” Cynthia says. That’s what he wants to hear so he leaves – Larry sets the paper down, hard, but Connor kicks the door shut behind him and he can’t hear them argue. He goes into the bathroom, locks the door, kneels up on the toilet seat lid to open the window and smokes two cigarettes before Zoe comes to find him. She sprays him with Febreze twice, then she drags him into her room to find her makeup bag.   
“Sit down,” she says. Connor sits. “Hold this.”  
“What are you doing?” he says, taking the lid she passes him.   
“Concealer,” she says. “You look like you spent the night in a crack den.”  
“Do you have a point of reference for that? You don’t know anyone who’s ever spent the night in a crack den.”  
“Have you?”  
“No.”  
“Okay, then I don’t know anyone, but I can use my imagination.”  
“Why would you want to imagine a crack den?”  
“It’s good to have a variety of experiences,” she says, primly. Connor snorts. She takes the lid off him and steps back. “Better.”

All she’s done is make the circles under his eyes less obvious, but it does make a difference.

“Thanks,” he says. She shrugs.   
“Kind of a bummer that Jared can do makeup better than I can,” she says. “But I know my way round concealer.”

Connor smiles because he thinks that was supposed to be funny. Zoe twists her mouth up and then steps forward and hugs him.  
“You still smell like a crack den,” she says, into his chest. “I’m really happy for you.”

Connor doesn’t say anything. There isn’t anything he can say, except to thank her a thousand times over for everything but mostly for letting him try and be better.

They go downstairs together. Cynthia’s rushing about collecting water bottles and her camera and shouting for Larry to _finish that call now, please_! In the car, Larry is silent, frowning into the wing mirror whenever he glances up. Zoe keeps up a steady stream of chatter but that makes it worse somehow, amplifies the silence from everyone else. 

* * *

 

Alana’s valedictorian. Her speech is a good one, funnier than Connor expected – aggressively hopeful and kind. She finishes by wishing them all luck as they go off into their futures. From up in the stands, someone whoops. Connor suspects it’s Zoe.

Alana’s the first person Connor actually cares about who graduates. She gives them a wave from the platform, collecting her diploma and moving the tassel to the other side of her hat. She looks happy. Connor’s glad for her – Alana, out of all of them, most deserves this. The relief he expected to feel at actually graduating hasn’t set in yet, he’s still a disappointing, irritating mix of anxiety and numbness. He keeps thinking about the first day of school and how it ended, with Evan’s pills and he doesn’t want that to be the one thing he returns to, the thing that most defines how he measures things against, but it still is, or it’s beginning to be again.

Evan’s next. Connor can hear Jared cheering as he goes carefully up the stairs and collects his diploma. Then Brian Harris, a few people after him; he makes hand-horns as he passes the principal and a few people around Connor titter like it’s funny.

Then Jared, then a guy Connor has literally never seen before, then Sam Taylor’s ex-girlfriend – she’s chopped all her hair off since Connor last saw her – then two people from Connor’s Chemistry class, then –

“Connor Murphy.”

The girls at the end of his row turn into each other to whisper. In the stands as well, people are _staring_. He kind of – forgets, sometimes, but they all know – he’s always going to be the kid who tried to kill himself. Suddenly, the stage is very far away, very high up, and the Principal – Connor will have to shake his hand, he spent hours in his office before coming back to school and they were all talking in whispers, like he wasn’t there, like he was actually dead –

Someone in the row in front cheers. Connor reckons it’s Jared – it’s definitely Jared, because then he’s said,  
“ _Yeah, Buffy_!”

Connor walks very fast up to the stage, collects his diploma, the Principal murmurs, _Well done_ –

And then he’s done it. Up in the stands, between his parents, Zoe’s on her feet, jumping up and down with her arm in the air. He waves at her. She waves back. Alana gives him thumbs up from the first row; her eyes are suspiciously red. Evan’s at the end of his row – he reaches out a hand as Connor goes past, snags Connor’s wrist and squeezes, once, beaming up at him. Jared’s in the middle of his row; he waves at Connor and almost knocks the cap off the guy sitting next to him.

There’s another forty minutes left, but then they’re done, everyone’s up, out of their seats to throw their caps in the air. Connor squeezes past them, out of his row, and collides with Jared, doing the same thing.  
“Hey,” Jared says, sticking his fist out. Connor bumps it. “We did it!”  
“Yeah,” Connor says. Then, “thanks, by the way.”  
“No problem-o,” Jared says. He bounces on the balls of his feet. “Making amends?”  
“You don’t need to,” Connor says.

Evan and Alana draw up beside them. Alana throws her arms around Connor’s waist, then Jared’s.  
“Nice speech,” Jared tells her.  
“Yeah, it was good.”  
“Was it?” Alana says, shrugging.   
“You know it was,” Connor tells her, amused.   
“Well, I’ve got a lot to live up to, right, Evan?”  
“No,” Evan says, flushing. Connor laughs. Then Zoe’s swung an arm around his waist and Evan’s, leaning past them to say, out of breath,  
“Parents approaching, I’m so proud of all of you!”

Heidi and Jared’s parents are the first to reach them. Heidi pulls first Evan, then Connor into a hug.  
“We filmed the whole thing!” Jared’s dad is telling Jared, excitedly. Jared makes a face.  
“ _Why_?”   
“We want to show everyone,” Jared’s mom says, rolling her eyes at Heidi. Heidi laughs, pressing a kiss to Evan’s cheek.  
“Incoming,” Zoe mutters. Connor turns. Cynthia and Larry are crossing the grass towards them, with the Harrises.  
“Fucking hell,” Connor says. Zoe makes a face.  
“ _You_ didn’t have to sit next to them, they were going on and on about how _wonderful_ and _talented_ Brian and Julie are, it was sickening – Hey, mom.”

Cynthia puts an arm around Zoe’s shoulders. She’s clearly been crying. Larry claps Connor on the shoulder.  
“Well done, darling,” Mrs Harris tells him. “After everything you’ve been through, it must be nice to have the summer to look forward to, huh?”  
“Yep,” Connor says, tired again.  
“Congratulations to Brian, too,” Zoe says, from beside him. Mrs Harris beams at her. She’s moments away from launching into an explanation of how wonderful and talented Brian is – Connor doesn’t really know where she’s getting his endless list of achievements from, because he didn’t even make the basketball team this year and he’s not in any AP classes.   
“Right, we better go see the boy before he goes off with all his friends,” Mr Harris says. Connor rolls his eyes. Larry tightens his grip on his shoulder, probably a warning, but Mr Harris hasn’t noticed.  
“Lovely to see you again,” Mrs Harris says. She smiles round at the others and then they’re gone, Mrs Harris clutching tight to her husband’s arm so she won’t sink into the grass on her heels.

Zoe sags exaggeratedly with relief. Connor laughs.

“Don’t be rude,” Cynthia says, sharply. She opens her arms. “Con, I am _so_ proud – ”  
“Okay, let’s not do that,” Connor says, but he does hug her, quickly. Larry looks a little uncomfortable. They’re not used to this. Most of their conversations for years were _do you even want to graduate,_ or _how do you expect to get good grades if you spend class time high_ or _I actually want to die._

So it’s an enormous relief when Heidi and Evan come over, detaching themselves from Jared and Alana and their parents. Heidi and Cynthia kiss cheeks; Evan shifts awkwardly beside his mom. He smiles nervously at Connor when their eyes meet. Connor smiles back, warmth pooling in his stomach for the first time all day. He can almost see the tension ease out of Evan’s shoulders; his smile brightens.

“Shall we get a picture?” Heidi suggests. She turns to wink at Connor. He smiles back. Zoe bundles Evan and Connor against each other, then steps back, pulling her own phone out for a photo.  
“I didn’t graduate,” she says, when Cynthia suggests she gets in as well. Then she insists on taking photos with Alana, and then she pulls them all in for a group photo, digging her elbow into Connor’s ribs until he can’t help laughing.  
“Thanks,” she says, taking her phone back from Larry. “Hey, Jared, your eyes are open.”  
“Miracles do exist,” Jared says.

Alana runs off to say goodbye to a few more people; Jared gets pulled aside by some people from one of his classes. Zoe’s frowning over her phone. Heidi and the Kleinmans are talking; Cynthia, Larry and Alana’s parents have bonded over mutual friends. Figuring they’re safe enough, Connor tugs Evan slightly away.  
“How are you feeling?” he asks. Evan folds his arms, hugging his elbows.   
“Better now it’s over,” he says. “I was convinced I was gonna trip up the stairs.”  
“You didn’t trip.”  
“Not this time,” he says. “Wait ‘til I have to graduate college.”  
“I always forget how optimistic and cheerful you are.”  
“Shut up,” Evan says, but he’s almost laughing so Connor counts it as a win.

* * *

 

 Eventually, Anthony ends up inviting them all back to their house. It’s both a relief and really annoying because as much as Connor wants to leave, he doesn’t want Larry there.

But Alana drags them up to her bedroom as soon as they’ve arrived. Jared’s already there, lying over her bed with his phone above his head.   
“Be right back,” Alana says, and she and Zoe disappear, giggling. Connor screws up his nose – he _really_ doesn’t want to know.  
“’Sup,” Jared says, without tearing his eyes away from his phone screen. Connor doesn’t reply, wandering over to Alana’s bookshelf. It somehow seems bigger than the last time he was here, which can’t have been more than three, maybe four, weeks ago. She’s got the same edition of _The Hobbit_ that he has – it used to be one of his favourite books but he hasn’t read it in years.

Downstairs, the doorbell goes. Connor can hear Alana call,  
“ _I’ll get it_!” and then the sound of feet running past the bedroom door. He sits down at the desk. Alana’s marked things in on her calendar in pink gel pen – _Granny_ is written in capital letters over the next weekend, and today is filled in with _Graduation!!!_ and several hearts. There’s a cardigan thrown over the doorhandle which Connor is pretty sure he’s seen Zoe wear.

Then the door’s opened again and Alana and Zoe are back, with Evan between them, tugging anxiously on the sleeves of his shirt.  
“You guys don’t stop talking, do you?” Zoe says, flopping down on the bed beside Jared.   
“Fuck off,” Connor says. Evan wanders over to him, leaning against the windowsill. They’re not touching but Connor’s hyper aware of Evan’s presence behind him.   
“We were promised a trampoline,” Jared says, turning his head to glare at Alana.  
“Yeah, it’s downstairs.”  
“Obviously, I didn’t think you’d have a trampoline room, like, built into your house.” Jared sits up. “How fucking cool would that be though, right Evan?”  
“Really cool,” Evan agrees.   
“Are you six?” Zoe asks.  
“Five and a half, _actually_.”

They go down to the back garden, which is _massive._ Alana and Zoe disappear – Alana says they’re going to get lemonade but Jared says they’re going to make out. Connor elbows him. Jared climbs up onto the trampoline and jumps around on his own for a while. Evan sits cross-legged on the rim and counts him up to somersaults – Connor suspects they’ve done this before.  
“Y’know you can do Olympic level trampolining,” Jared says. He bounces to a stand-still and topples over, spread-eagled in the centre of the trampoline. “That would be _awesome._ ”  
“You should go for it,” Evan tells him.  
“We’d support you,” Connor says. “And then you could tell people you’re a professional trampoliner and I could watch them laugh at you.”

Jared sticks his middle finger up in the air.

Evan turns his head and smothers his laugh against Connor’s shoulder. Connor’s heart grows about two sizes in his chest, it’s very Dr Seuss.

Then Zoe and Alana are back, with a jug of lemonade and paper cups. They sit on the trampoline – Alana tries and fails to move Jared, gives up and they sit around him, like points on a weird star.

“Your house is very nice, Alana,” Evan says, politely. Alana beams at him.  
“Thanks,” she says. “It’s big, though. I mean, this garden was just me running around on my own most of the time.”  
“That is genuinely the saddest thing I’ve ever heard,” Jared says, lifting his head up. “And Evan used to talk to trees.”  
“Shut up,” Evan says, colouring. Connor bumps his shoulder.

Jared shuffles up to rest his head against Evan’s knee so he can drink his lemonade. He lifts his cup in the air.  
“Never have I ever, okay?”  
“We can’t do that without booze,” Zoe says.  
“Watch me,” Jared says.   
“It’ll just be a competition to see who pees first,” Zoe says.   
“You two are _so_ related,” Jared says, pointing first at her, then at Connor. “Never have I ever owned a trampoline.”

No one drinks. Jared turns accusingly to Alana. She shrugs.   
“ _Technically,_ my parents own it.”  
“Fuck you,” Jared says.   
“Never have I ever kissed a boy,” Alana says, and cackles as the rest of them groan.   
“Never have I ever smoked a cigarette,” Zoe says. Connor and Alana both drink. “ _’Lana_!”  
“I wanted to know what it would be like,” Alana admits. “You know, the guy in our year who sits outside the back doors pretty much every lunch? Sam?”  
“Sam Taylor?” Connor says. “Yeah, that figures. Never have I ever kissed a girl.”  
“Never have I ever gotten high,” Evan says. Connor makes a sound of betrayal. Evan laughs, resting his head against Connor’s shoulder.   
“Never have I ever been suspended,” Jared says.   
“This is really unfair,” says Connor.   
“Never have I ever punched someone,” says Alana.  
“Come on,” says Connor.  
“Never have I ever totalled a car,” Zoe says. Connor sets his cup down, empty.  
“This is a stupid game,” he says. They all roar with laughter.  
“You know how you’re, like, the human personification of Grumpy Cat?” Jared says. Connor kicks him. “Seriously, did you total a car? For real?”  
“It wasn’t _totalled_ , _”_ Connor says, defensively. “Like, it still worked. Technically.”  
“He was high,” Zoe says.   
“No shit,” Jared says. Evan slips his hand into Connor’s for a moment, laces their fingers together and squeezes. Then he sits up.   
“Jared, truth or dare.”  
“Dare,” Jared says.   
“I dare you to stay silent for five minutes,” Evan says. Jared gapes at him.   
“ _Dude_ ,” he says. “The _fuck_?”  
“Is that okay?” Evan says, going red. Connor swings an arm around his shoulders.  
“You heard him, Jared.”

Jared sticks his middle fingers up in the air, collapsing back onto the trampoline so heavily the rest of them bounce too.  

“Zo, truth or dare?” Alana says. Zoe stretches her legs out, toes pointed.   
“Mmmm, truth.”  
“Most embarrassing memory?”  
“Wow,” Zoe says. She leans back onto her wrists. “Um, okay, not sure if this is my _most_ embarrassing memory but it’s the first thing I can think of? So when I was in fifth grade, I really liked this guy and I kept inviting him round to our house? And I thought he liked me back because he always came round whenever I asked and he was always sweet to me in school, like he gave me his lunchables and his juiceboxes and shit – I know, it was adorable. Anyway, so we’re on the couch after school one day, and we were watching TV, and I just thought I’d go for it and I kissed him, and he got so embarrassed, it was awful. Turns out he had a massive crush on _Connor_. So, that was my first kiss.”

Alana and Evan both groan. Jared has his hands clapped over his mouth, eyes screwed shut. Connor says,  
“Who the fuck was that?”  
“Jamie Webb?” Zoe says. “He’s in my grade. He’s in art club?”

Connor shrugs.

“This was pre-printer,” Zoe explains.   
“Right.”  
“Anyway, that’s my most embarrassing memory? I think?” She frowns. “I don’t really embarrass easily.”  
“Lucky,” Evan murmurs. Zoe blows him a kiss.

They go round the circle until Jared’s stomach starts rumbling, and then they go inside to find food. There’s a bag of Doritos which Alana opens and Zoe hogs; there’s also easy bake cupcakes which Jared insists they make.

Alana’s terrible at cooking so Zoe and Connor take over; Cynthia’s made them help out in the kitchen before dinner parties often enough that they’ve both gotten pretty good, and Zoe bakes for fun. Alana loads up Spotify and she and Jared have a dance-off in the dining room, the sliding partition open so that Zoe and Evan can cheer. Evan sits on the counter by the sink, rinsing spoons off when Connor passes them over.

The adults are, presumably, still in the other room. It’s weird – Connor can’t imagine them having anything in common, but he knows his parents can be charming and Heidi and the Kleinmans are already friends, so. It’s probably not as weird as it feels but he has a horrible churning feeling in the pit of his stomach when he thinks about his parents interacting with them for too long – they could say _anything_ , and then Alana’s parents or Jared’s parents might realise they don’t want their kids hanging out with Connor anymore and then –

“Hey,” Evan says, softly. He’s jumped off the counter and come to stand by Connor. Connor was supposed to be mixing the dough while Zoe went to join the others for her favourite song. He hadn’t realised he’d stopped.  
“Hey,” Connor says. He lets the spoon go. Evan snakes his arms around Connor’s waist, pressing his face against Connor’s shoulder. “Sorry.”  
“Don’t be sorry,” Evan says. “What’s up?”  
“Nothing,” Connor says. “Just – Cynthia and Larry.”  
“Yeah?”  
“Yeah.”  
“You said we were friends no matter what,” Evan says.   
“Yeah, to _you_.”  
“We’re all friends, no matter what,” Evan says, earnestly. “Also, you smell really good.”  
“Fuck off,” Connor says. Evan huffs a laugh. He detaches one arm from around Connor’s waist to pick up the spoon and continue mixing himself.

Connor watches him.   
“This is a lot harder than it looks,” Evan says, as the spoon jams. “Bakers must be really strong.”  
“Oh my God,” Connor says, and kisses him.   
“Um,” Zoe says, from behind them. “That’s disgusting, we are preparing _food_.”  
“Sorry,” Evan says, going scarlet. Connor steps back to let Zoe through. She winks at him. 

* * *

 

**To: Alana Beck**

Can I give evan a copy of your script?

**From: Alana Beck**

Yeah why?

**To: Alana Beck**

idk im just trying to work out how itd work

if I did it

hypothetically

**From: Alana Beck**

Okay well I like this hypothetical situation a lot; you have my permission

**To: Alana Beck**

You are the only person I know who uses semicolons in text messages

**From: Alana Beck**

So I’m the only person you know with good grammar? 

* * *

 

Evan goes over Alana’s email twice, in complete silence, with a biro between his teeth, frowning. Connor watches him, inexplicably nervous.

“Are you sure she’s okay with me changing bits of this?” Evan asks, at last. “I mean – not changing it, just – rewriting it? And do you actually want me to, because this is – ”  
“Yes, and yes,” Connor says. “It needs to be simpler and you, uh, you – your writing style is less, um, tangent-y?”  
“Tangent-y,” Evan repeats. “Is that a technical term, or – ?”  
“Wow, you spend too much time with Kleinman,” Connor says. Evan laughs.   
“Okay,” he says. “I’ll get this done.”  
“Thanks,” Connor says, leaning over to kiss him. Evan sighs happily against his mouth, setting the pen down to wrap an arm across Connor’s shoulders and pull him closer. He slides his other hand loosely around Connor’s wrist, fingers curving up inside the sleeve of his hoodie. He’s started doing that sometimes, since he found out about the scars, and Connor thought it would be stressful but it’s quite – It’s okay, actually, it’s grounding, proof that Evan really doesn’t mind them except for what they mean to Connor.

They kiss for ages, lazily, and then they kind of taper off. Evan sits back up against the couch and Connor starts sketching out Alana.  
“You’re really talented,” Evan says, after a while. He’s watching Connor draw. Connor blinks up at him, sceptical.  
“Mmm,” he says. “I dunno. I was thinking I might take some art classes next year? ‘Cos I kind of. Missed out on them at school and I don’t know, it’s probably a shit idea – ”  
“No it’s a good idea,” Evan says, firmly. “Have you looked at the course catalogue?”  
“Uh-huh. Yesterday. Larry’s already been through it as well, so there are like, ten classes I refuse to do now.”

Evan laughs.

He starts his new job this weekend, and Larry’s decided to take Connor and Zoe on a tour of the college he went to. Connor suspects he’s taking an interest because his education is the only thing Larry feels like he can still exert control over. They’ve already had an argument over the American Literature course Connor had bookmarked.

“Sounds about right,” Evan says. He’s still got this soft, happy look on his face. It’s nice, Connor likes it, but he also can’t look at it for too long or it makes his heart feel about ten sizes too big for his chest so he leans forward and kisses him again. Evan makes a small, pleased sound against his mouth, slides his arms up around Connor’s neck to pull him closer.

This time, when they break apart, Evan ducks his head onto Connor’s shoulder, smiling and flushed.   
“Um,” he says. “Actually. I wanted to, um. I wanted to talk to you? About – I have – um, so you remember when I said – I said that I wasn’t ready to have sex? With you? And in general but you were kind of – it was implied that you would be there, that’s so weird, I’m sorry, I mean – Not right now, obviously, but in the future? Um. I would like to. Have sex. With you. So. Just so you know.”

He’s flushed scarlet and staring hard at the floor. Connor’s pretty sure he’s gone bright red as well but Evan isn’t looking at him so – small mercies.

“Cool,” he says. “Okay. Cool.”  
“Cool,” Evan says. He glances up, a little nervously, and Connor’s heart does the thing again so he kisses him again instead.  
“Cool,” he says, leaning back. Evan _beams_. 

* * *

 

Connor has to wake up at six on Saturday, which is the earliest he’s woken up possibly ever. Zoe is a zombie at the breakfast table; she pours her coffee into her cereal instead of milk and doesn’t seem to notice until Cynthia points it out, which is kind of funny and kind of makes up for the whole getting up before the sun has actually, properly risen thing.

**To: Evan Hansen**

Good luck today

 

Cynthia is emotional in the car, until Larry gets her on the subject of their college experiences, and then they’re swapping stories and laughing. Zoe’s fallen asleep against the window and they don’t notice when Connor puts his headphones in.

 

**From: Evan Hansen**

Thanks :)

Kind of nervous

**To: Evan Hansen**

You’ll be great!

**From: Evan Hansen**

What if they hate me?

**To: Evan Hansen**

No one’s gonna hate you

**From: Evan Hansen**

Aaaah

**To: Evan Hansen**

It will be good I promise

Let me know how it goes

**From: Evan Hansen**

Good luck with your parents

 

The drive is an hour and a half, and Connor falls asleep at some point because he misses turning off the highway and the drive up to the campus. Then Zoe’s shaking him –   
“Get off,” he says, sitting up, disorientated and still sleepy. Zoe’s woken up properly now, sweeping her hair up into a ponytail as Cynthia and Larry climb out of the car. He rubs his eyes. “Do they know that neither of us actually want to go here?”  
“No,” Zoe says. She opens the car door, leaning back in to hiss, “And do not start a fight.”  
“I’m not gonna,” he grumbles, getting out the other side. Larry locks up, tosses Cynthia the car keys over the hood of the car and they wander off together, hand in hand. Zoe makes a face at him.  
“How long do you reckon we have until they notice we’re not with them?”  
“’Til they get to the place Larry asked her out or some shit,” Connor says. They follow them anyway.   
“Cynthia was quizzing me about Evan when you were asleep,” Zoe says.   
“What do you mean?”  
“Like, what she does with you and ‘Lana?”  
“Oh.”  
“Yeah.” She fiddles with her bag for a moment, pulling her sunglasses out. “Y’know, we’re gonna have to tell them at some point.”  
“Do we?”  
“What if you two get really serious and want to move in together?”

Connor scoffs. “Why would I have to tell them? They’d be happy assuming we were just great pals.”  
“Pals does not sound right coming from you,” Zoe tells him. “I think mom would be okay with it, y’know.”  
“Yeah, maybe after a while, or we’d be her – like, trophies, to prove how _liberal_ and _forward-thinking_ she is, and I don’t. I don’t wanna be her gay mentally ill son, that’s. Gross.”  
“You are her gay mentally ill son,” Zoe points out.  
“Yeah, but I don’t want to be _treated_ like it.”   
“I don’t think you’re being fair to her,” Zoe says.   
“Why would me and Evan move in together before you and Alana?” Connor says.  
“Nice segue.”  
“Zo.”  
“I dunno,” Zoe says. “We had a long talk about it two days ago, like – can we keep it up long-distance and we both agreed we want to try but success stories are so rare, and it’s five years of long-distance, you know? There’s no way I’m going to Princeton, so unless I go somewhere else in New Jersey we’re gonna be in different states for both of our college experiences.”  
“You don’t sound very optimistic.”  
“Yeah, I’ve been spending too much time with you,” Zoe says. She elbows him in the ribs to show she’s joking. “Don’t tell her, okay? I really want it to work, I _really_ want it to work – I like her so much. But, y’know, I want her to have the best college experience she can do, and I don’t wanna be – holding her back.”  
“You’re not the kind of person who holds people back,” Connor says. Zoe elbows him again, harder this time.  
“Okay, I can _hear_ the self-pity. Neither are you.”  
“Alana really likes you. She talks about you all the time, it’s kind of annoying.”  
“Evan does exactly the same thing,” Zoe says, laughing. “Hey, d’you think it’s weird that we’re dating each other’s best friends?”  
“You and Evan are best friends?” Connor says. “Me and Alana are best friends?”  
“Wow,” Zoe says. “I’m not even answering that one.”

She doesn’t have time to anyway because they’ve come to a stop by Cynthia and Larry and a bench that was probably very symbolic in the development of their relationship. 

* * *

 

Connor doesn’t have to spend much time with Larry in the end: he and Cynthia decide to split up and Cynthia takes Connor to see the Literature department, and then the Art department which is – Nice of her, actually, because Connor didn’t even suggest it.

They’re both – They’re both really cool, actually, and Connor ends up talking to a sophomore when Cynthia goes to use the bathroom. She explains about the courses she’s taking this year, including one about literature’s role in social activism which isn’t something he’d thought much about but it sounds really interesting.

Then they go and sit down outside for a bit because Connor’s getting tired – it’s the heat and the medication. Cynthia passes him a water bottle and a cereal bar and tells him about meeting Larry – they’d been eighteen and Larry had been in something resembling a punk phase.  
“No he _didn’t_!” Connor says, crumpling the cereal bar wrapper into his pocket. Evan’s really got into his head with the whole recycling-saves-the-planet thing.  
“Yeah, he did,” Cynthia says, fondly. “I shouldn’t have told you that. Don’t say anything.”  
“He had a _piercing_? I’m definitely saying something. That’s so fucking hypocritical.”

Cynthia chuckles. “Don’t swear, Con. Hey, the Literature department was cool, huh?”  
“Yeah, it was okay.”  
“They’ve got a great liberal arts program here.”  
“Cool.”  
“And they do Psychology courses, so you could take a few classes on that?”  
“Why would I do that?” Connor says, bewildered.  
“Well, I just thought – You know, with the website and everything. That’s important to you, maybe it would be interesting to learn more about it.”  
“Oh,” says Connor. He hadn’t thought about that, but actually – “Yeah, that would be interesting.”

Cynthia beams. Her phone goes off and she replies to the message and Connor stares out across the quad – there are two guys stretched out on a blanket underneath a tree by the library building and a third one next to them, juggling for some inexplicable reason and Connor has a sudden vision of Jared in the future.

“So, um,” Cynthia says. “How’s Evan now?”  
“Hmmm?”  
“Evan? You’ve been spending so much time with him lately, and the last time we talked about him, he was going through a rough patch?”  
“Oh,” Connor says. “Oh – the tree? He’s, uh, he’s fine. He just. He just, y’know, it happened last summer and he told me about it but he’s fine, he’s doing good, he just – He got a job, actually? At Pottery Barn, but it’s really – It’s a good step forward for him, because he has social anxiety but he’s in a place where he feels capable of interacting with customers, like new people every day, so.” He realises he’s hit levels of suspiciously keen. “Yeah, whatever, he’s fine.”  
“Good,” Cynthia says. “You know he’s always welcome at our house? You don’t have to go over to his all the time.”  
“Yeah,” Connor says, non-committal.   
“And how’s the website going?”  
“Okay,” Connor says. “Uh – Alana had an idea, um, where we’d make videos about our own experiences with mental illnesses and things? Um, ‘cos Evan’s speech – It got so popular, and, um, we keep getting emails from people saying they’d needed to hear it and stuff, which is amazing, but she wants to do stuff like that.”  
“You don’t want to?”  
“Um,” Connor says. The juggler’s just dropped his balls. “No – I don’t really – I don’t feel comfortable with that, but I think the others kind of want to do it. At least, Zoe and Alana and Jared. Um, Alana suggested I did, like, illustrations for it instead of just filming ourselves?”  
“Yeah?”  
“Yeah. So Evan’s rewriting a script for me and I’ll – give it a go, I guess, but it probably won’t be any good, but. I dunno, it’s important to her and she hasn’t been wrong before, so.”  
“I’m so proud of you,” Cynthia says.

Connor scrapes his heels against the gravel. When he looks up, Cynthia is still smiling at him, like he’s eight years old and wouldn’t stop talking about the book he was reading.

“You’re doing so well,” she says. “It’s so lovely seeing you like this again.”

Connor doesn’t know what to say to that so he doesn’t say anything. The guys by the library are standing up, collecting their stuff to leave.

“You’ll like college,” Cynthia says. “Me and your dad did.”  
“Yeah?”  
“Yeah. I think it’ll be good for you. New people, more freedom, all these courses you’ll enjoy.”

The soles of Connor’s boots are white with dust from the gravel. He tries sliding them against the grass beneath the bench to get it off.

“It’s nice to have some old people to fall back on, though,” Cynthia says. Connor glances up at her. He thinks, for a moment, that _old people_ means her and Larry and he’s about to protest, but then he realises she means friends, like Alana and Evan and Jared. He nods. 

* * *

 

**From: Evan Hansen**

How was the college

Tour?

**To: Evan Hansen**

Ok

How was your first day at work?

**From: Evan Hansen**

Ummmm

Okay

I almsot dropped a vase and the guy who wanted to buy it was k ind of a dick but my manager was nice about it sooooo

Okay :)

**To: Evan Hansen**

I’m glad :)

**From: Evan Hansen**

I jst want you to know i think youre really pretty

**To: Evan Hansen**

Um ok thanks?

**From: Evan Hansen**

Youre welcoe you have really nice cheekbones

**To: Evan Hansen**

Dude are you drunk or something?

**From: Evan Hansen**

Maybe a little

**To: Evan Hansen**

What??

Are you ok?

Hansen?

 

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

Lol guys

evans drunk n he just spent like 5 mins trying to describe Connors hair

**From: Alana.Beck**

You got Evan drunk????

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

Yh dw weve done it before

Hes just a lightweight lol

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Connor’s gone bright red omg

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

We’ve been talking about Connor for 15 minutes!11!!!

This is genuinely DISGUST ING

Omg now we’re playing floor is made of lava n evan just like parkoured the fuck out of my basement

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Why does your grammar get better when you’re drunk?

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

Exhibit A above: deflecting

Im not drunk im just tipsy

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

“parkoured the fuck out of my basement”

What does that even mean?

**From: Alana.Beck**

Please be careful with him??

**From: JaredKleinmanDoesNotThinkConnorMurphyIsAFreak**

Dw ive got it covered

Were gon watch star wars now

Omg he just turned to me dead srs n said “I think luke skywalker is a gay”

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

“think”??

* * *

 

  **From: Evan Hansen**

I am so so so so so so sorry

**To: Evan Hansen**

About what?

**From: Evan Hansen**

Um yesterday??

That was really weird and I’m so sorry

And im sorry about how delayed this apology is jared took my phone to prevent me embarrassing myself but then he told you everything anyway and I’m so sorry

**To: Evan Hansen**

Dude

It’s fine

It was funny

**From: Evan Hansen**

:/

**To: Evan Hansen**

You get drunk and think about me that’s nice

**From: Evan Hansen**

:/

I don’t do it regularly

**To: Evan Hansen**

It’s cool Evan seriously you didn’t do anything wrong :)

How was yesterday though?

At work?

**From: Evan Hansen**

I’m still sorry

It was okay yeah, just one rude guy but my manager was nice about it and the people I had shift with were friendly

They invited me out to get dinner with them afterwards but that seemed like too much and I’d already agreed to meet Jared so I had to say no do you think that’s a bad thing?

**To: Evan Hansen**

Nope not at all

It’s nice they invited you but they’ll invite you again, and if you already had plans with someone else it’s not like you were just rejecting them which you are in your rights to do anyway

**From: Evan Hansen**

I feel kind of bad

**To: Evan Hansen**

You could make an effort to go to the next thing you’re invited to?

**From: Evan Hansen**

If I’m invited again

Sorry I’m complaining I’m done I’ll stop

I sent you the script btw

Alana’s script

**To: Evan Hansen**

Ok I’ll check now

 

Evan’s version is exactly what Connor thought it would be, and he can already think of ways to illustrate it.

 

**To: Evan Hansen**

Thanks that’s perfect

**From: Evan Hansen**

Are you sure? I won’t be offended if you want me to change anything??

And if Alana’s happy with it?

**To: Evan Hansen**

Yeah I’ll forward it to her now?

Do you want to come round later?

**From: Evan Hansen**

Yeah that’d be nice!

 

The amazing thing about Evan Hansen is that Connor doesn’t get bored or tired talking to him. Even Alana – Connor accidentally zones out, sometimes, or it’s just too much, and he likes her, she’s one of his closest friends, although that’s kind of weird to realise – but it’s different with Evan.

There’s no pressure. Or, if there is, Connor just forgets about it. He’s just comfortable. Even when Zoe comes in and sits on Connors bed with them to go through Evan’s new co-workers on Facebook and Instagram – Connor’s fine just resting his head against Evan’s shoulder and listening to them laugh about how Kirsty Lewis from the grade above them had no idea who Evan was when she realised they went to the same school. It’s nice hearing Evan so comfortable talking about that – even a few months ago, it would have sent him spiralling.

They end up making out kind of lazily for a while, but then Evan sits back, which Connor is kind of glad about. It’s not that he doesn’t want to sleep with him – he _does,_ but there’s no harm in waiting a little longer; Connor stills feels a little weird, easily breakable, and he wants Evan to be comfortable.

“So, uh,” Evan says. He sits up a bit, folding his legs beneath him.   
“So?”  
“Me and my dad?”  
“Oh, yeah?”  
“We’ve kind of been texting a bit, back and forth,” Evan says. “Yeah, um, he’s coming nearby for business in the fall and I – He’s gonna come and see me.”  
“Are you gonna go to his wedding?”  
“I guess,” Evan says. “It’s been nice – not nice, because I’m still – I’m kind of angry, still, but, uh. Sorry, this doesn’t make any sense.”   
“It’s okay. Go on.”

Evan folds up a corner of Connor’s blanket in his fist. “I guess I’m kind of resentful, because he – y’know, he left, and the more we talk, the more it just kind of seems like he wants me to forget or, uh, get over it? But he’s my dad and I want to have a good relationship with him, so I kind of – it feels like I should forget, or get over it?”  
“That’s not how it works.”  
“I know,” Evan says. “But I wish it was.” He looks up at Connor, smiling suddenly. “I told him about you, actually.”  
“Oh.”  
“Not – Not everything,” Evan adds. “He doesn’t need to know all that. Not that it’s a bad thing, but.”  
“It’s not a good thing,” Connor says. Evan makes a face, like he can’t be bothered to argue.   
“He texted me a few days ago, when we were out for ice cream with the others? Before graduation?”  
“Yeah?”  
“Yeah, so I just told him like, I’m out with friends and he asked who and I told him, and – he remembered Jared, which was kind of weird. Because he forgot my eleventh birthday, but he remembered Jared.”  
“Jared’s pretty hard to forget,” Connor says. Evan’s mouth twitches.  
“But I’d mentioned you, so I told him that we’re dating. That is okay, isn’t it?”  
“I don’t mind who you tell as long as my parents don’t find out.”  
“Okay,” says Evan. “If he comes in the fall, he wants to meet you.”  
“Do you want me to meet him?”  
“I don’t know,” Evan says. “Can I think about it?”  
“Yeah.”

Evan smiles at him and leans down to kiss him.

“Okay,” he says, sitting back.  
“Okay?”  
“I want you to meet him.”

Connor blinks. “Y’know, when people say they want to think about it, they usually mean for longer than twenty seconds.”  
“I’m speedy, my brain works fast.”  
“You’re a nerd.”  
“You’re important to me,” Evan says. “And if my dad wants to be a part of my life, he’s got to know you.” He presses a kiss, very soft, to the corner of Connor’s mouth. “Is that okay?”

It feels like something’s caught in his throat, hard and painful – the idea that Connor means something, means so much, to Evan, lovely, kind, gentle Evan. His stomach is kind of warm and his knees, where Evan’s touch them, and his wrist, where Evan’s fingers press slightly into his pulsepoint. 

* * *

 

On Thursday, Connor wakes up as Cynthia leaves for her yoga class. He must have slept through his alarm – Evan’s sent him updates as he went into, and then presumably started, his shift and Alana’s sent him a reply to the copy of Evan’s script. He’ll read it later.

He can hear Zoe downstairs, singing along to the radio. She waves when he comes into the kitchen.  
“Hey, mom said to let you sleep, do you want pancakes?”  
“Uh. Yeah?”  
“Make coffee, then,” she says, returning to the stove. He rolls his eyes but goes to put the machine on.

He’s putting the milk back in the fridge when Larry comes in.  
“Oh good,” he says. “You’re both here.”  
“That’s the first time I’ve heard that,” Connor says. Zoe smirks.   
“So the Connolly case fell through,” Larry says. He goes to fetch a coffee cup and sets it down beside Connor without asking. “Which means I won’t be working on your mom’s birthday weekend.”  
“Cool,” Zoe says.   
“I was thinking I might take her away for a few days?”  
“Oh she’d like that!”  
“Yeah?”

Larry takes his coffee and makes a face when it’s still too hot. “I want to make sure you’re alright with us leaving.”  
“Yeah, I’m cool with it,” Zoe says. Connor bites down something like _I won’t try killing myself again until you come back, don’t worry_. This isn’t the right audience. Jared is possibly the only person who would be the right audience for that joke.   
“Yeah, whatever,” he says, instead. Larry frowns at him.  
“Alright,” he says. “I’ll book it when I get to the office.”  
“Where are you taking her?”  
“A little inn we went to before I proposed,” Larry says.   
“Cute.”  
“I’ll see you at dinner.”

Connor doesn’t say anything until he’s heard Larry’s car back down the drive, and then Zoe sets a plate of pancakes in the centre of the kitchen table and folds herself down onto a chair.

“Hey,” she says. “Can we talk?”

Connor wonders if there’s anyone in the world who likes hearing that kind of thing. He shrugs.  
“About Evan?” she prompts. Connor’s heart sinks further. Zoe hasn’t noticed, spooning way too much sugar onto her pancake. When she looks up, she rolls her eyes. “Jesus, chill. I just meant, like – we haven’t really talked about it? I dunno, we have so much to catch up on, I just thought – it might be nice – ”  
“Oh,” says Connor. “Okay.”  
“So?”  
“So?”  
“Well, how’s it going?”  
“Okay,” says Connor. Zoe gives him a look. Connor doesn’t really know how to put it into words – he’s been trying to avoid _talking_ about it because he’s terrified he’ll ruin it if it becomes real enough to discuss but. “I, uh. I really like him.”  
“Yeah?”  
“Yeah.”

Zoe chews, slowly. “I can’t really ask you what he’s like, cos – I know him. Uh – hey, Heidi knows?”  
“Yeah,” Connor says.   
“So you’ve met her as his _boyfriend_ , then?”  
“Yep.”  
“You’re really shit at this,” she says. “Have another pancake.”

They sit in silence for a while. Connor tries to think of something he can tell her that isn’t either horribly embarrassing or that she really won’t want to know. Then she says,  
“Alana told me she loved me.”  
“Oh.”  
“Yeah.”  
“Wow.”  
“Yeah.”  
“What did you say?”  
“I told her I loved her.”  
“Do you?”  
“Yeah,” Zoe says. She’s red, hiding behind her hair. “Yeah, I really – I really do.”

Connor’s smiling. “I’m really glad,” he tells her. She glances up, a little hopeful.  
“Yeah?”  
“Yeah. I want you to be happy.”  
“I am,” she says. “With her. I really am.”

* * *

 

  **From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Its been a wk since I saw u losers in the same place

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Thank fuck you changed your username

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Yh started chattin 2 sum college ppl n I didn’t want ur baggage bringin down my cool level

**From: Evan_Hansen**

Connor’s cool

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

no

he’s really not

**From: Alana.Beck**

I have a free day on Friday if that matches everyone else’s schedules?

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Id have 2 be back 4 Friday nite dinner but yh

**From: Evan_Hansen**

Yeah that works :)

**From: Connor_Murphy**

I guess

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Pls murphy ur only plans r evan

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Fuck you

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

*evan

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

AND THAT IS QUITE ENOUGH

THANK YOU

I DON’T WANT TO READ ABOUT MY BROTHER’S SEX LIFE

**From: Alana.Beck**

Are you free on Friday babe?

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Yep!

What shall we do?

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

I wanna get a tan do u want 2 go back 2 the park

**From: Evan_Hansen**

You don’t tan you just burn

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Fuck u evan

**From: Alana.Beck**

Okay what time?

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Can we make it afternoon?

**From: Evan_Hansen**

That works for me!

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

U mean ur plans happen 2 align perfectly with ur boyfriend who u talk about constantly

No one is surprised

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Why are you in such a bad mood Jared?

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

I’M TOO HOT

hot damn 

* * *

 

On Friday afternoon, they go back to the park where Jared and Connor had their hybrid, not-quite birthday.

Zoe spent the night at Alana’s, so Connor goes to pick Evan up alone. Heidi’s not at home so they end up making out against the kitchen counter until Evan’s phone starts going off between them – three or four messages from Jared asking where they are, followed by several lines of winking faces.   
“The _worst_ timing,” Evan says, a little breathlessly, but they take it as their cue to leave anyway.

They’ve put a blanket down in the shade beneath a tree a little bit beyond where they were last time. Zoe’s got her guitar with her, in its case beside her. Alana and Jared are passing Alana’s iPad between them – when Connor and Evan drop down beside them, Alana shoves it into Evan’s hands.  
“What do you think of this, as a post for You Will Be Found?” she says.  
“Hey,” Connor says, to Zoe. She opens her eyes to smile at him.  
“Hey.”  
“We thought you guys had gotten lost or something,” Jared says, winking. Connor stares at him, silently – he worked out in sophomore year that it was a pretty good way of getting people to stop talking to him. It doesn’t work on Jared. “They did. I thought you guys were probably banging.”  
“ _Jared_!” Evan and Zoe say, simultaneously and equally annoyed, which is kind of impressive. Jared holds his hands up but he’s laughing.   
“Here,” Alana says, passing the iPad back. “You can put it up whenever.”  
“Um, not on an iPad, it’ll be impossible to format.”  
“Fine, I’ll send it to you and you can do it at home.”  
“Gee, _thanks_ ,” Jared drawls.  “The Becktatorship continues.” Alana glances up to smile at him. It’s nice, seeing her relax enough to take the joke. It’s nice, thinking that this is a group of people who bring out the best in each other.

Connor sits back against the tree Zoe’s resting against and zones out of their conversation. He’s trying to draw the other four, sat around in a circle, on a borrowed picnic blanket with juice boxes and packets of chips like they’re kids on a playdate. Or, how Connor imagines kids would be on playdates. He didn’t really have many. Alana’s the easiest to draw, because he’s practiced. Jared keeps moving so his profile goes a bit weird. He takes ages over Evan, trying to get the lines of his shoulders and his jaw right, until the _scratch-scratch_ of his pencil slows and stops completely when he realises how warm he is.

“ – upstate, for like, three days,” Zoe is saying. She nudges Evan. “We should _totally_ have a kegger.”  
“Totally,” Evan says.  
“Your parents would flip,” Jared says. Zoe laughs.  
“Oh my God, they’d have aneurisms. But we’ll have the house for three days, so you guys should come and stay over.”  
“I’m not fifth-wheeling,” Jared says.   
“You wouldn’t be fifth wheeling, Jared, we’re all friends.”  
“When are they going away?” Alana asks. Zoe wrinkles her nose.  
“Uh, end of the month. Weekend before July 4th.”  
“I’m staying with my cousins that week,” Jared says.   
“No, you suck.”  
“I want ice cream,” Alana says, standing up. She brushes grass off her legs. “Anyone else?”  
“Yeah, there’s a café down there,” Jared says, climbing up as well. “I’ll go with you.”

Zoe stretches her legs out as they leave. She rolls her head onto her shoulder, looking first at Connor, then at Evan, and then she says,  
“Um – I really want ice cream as well – ”

She trips over her own feet running after the other two.   
“What’s up?” Evan asks.   
“Huh?” says Connor. “Nothing, I’m just hot.”  
“You look, um, kind of angry?”  
“I’m not angry,” says Connor. Evan crawls over to him.   
“You could take your hoodie off?”  
“No,” Connor says. Evan makes a face. He sits up to take his phone out of his back pocket.  
“No one’s gonna care,” he says, gently.   
“Fuck off.”  
“Really,” Evan says. He leans forward so he can push Connor’s hair out of his face, and then he leans closer and kisses him.   
“Convincing,” Connor says. Evan says,  
“Shut up,” and kisses him again, even softer. He rocks back on his heels, keeping eye contact, and reaches out to tug the zip of Connor’s hoodie down.   
“I guess that’s okay,” Connor says. Evan smiles, kisses him again, pushes the hoodie off his shoulders. Connor draws back. “But I don’t want – ”  
“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” Evan says. “But you’re going to overheat and that’s really bad for people on medication, um, my mom’s always saying we need to keep hydrated – not _we,_ me, but I mean, it’s applicable for you as well and my mom loves you so she’d want you to be safe and – Um, it’s because, um, when you’re on anti-depressants, I think they prevent the part of your brain which regulates body temperature from realising you’re overheating – ”  
“Jesus,” says Connor, and shrugs his hoodie off. Evan stops to draw in a breath.  
“Thank you.”

Connor hasn’t had his arms bare in public in years. It’s weird how exposed it feels. Evan kisses him again, and it’s weird how – comfortable that feels. Like, being with Evan seems so nice and normal that it’s easy to forget everything else around them.

“We literally left for five minutes, keep it in your _pants._ ”  
“Shut up Jared,” Zoe says. She passes two bottles of water to Evan as she sits down. Evan makes an aborted move away from Connor but Connor catches his wrist and Evan shifts until he’s sat against Connor’s chest to open one of the bottles and pass it back to him. Jared is licking melting ice cream off his wrist and doesn’t notice.

If any of them see the scars, none of them say anything, which is nice – but maybe Evan was right, and they didn’t notice, or they just don’t mind. It’s good, because he feels better almost immediately – the drop in temperature and the water both help, and so does Evan leaning against him, grounding. He flips his sketchbook back open on the ground beside them and draws in the stripes on Jared’s t-shirt and tries to get the curve of Alana’s glasses right. Zoe leans back against the tree to take her guitar out.  
“Do Kumbaya,” Jared says.   
“You are a public menace,” Alana tells him. Zoe strums a chord.   
“Anyway,” she says. “Here’s Wonderwall.”

Jared tears up a fistful of grass and throws it at her, except the wind drops and it all just flutters to the ground around him and gets stuck in his hair. Zoe cackles, stretching out her legs. She picks out a tune – Connor thinks it might be something she did in jazz band, because he kind of recognises it, he thinks he’s heard her practice it.

Jared lies back on the grass, folding his arms beneath his head.   
“This is the gayest thing I’ve ever been a part of,” he says. Zoe drags her fingers up the neck of the guitar and then rests her head against Alana’s. She plays something soft, something he’s heard her play in her room, and then she strums a few chords and launches into Kumbaya. Jared sits bolt upright to join in. Alana’s filming them and Evan’s laughing. They give them a round of applause when they’re done and Jared bows over his knees.

* * *

 

 Dr West asks him if he wants to make their appointments less frequent. Connor asks to think about it.

Cynthia isn’t in the waiting room when he comes out, but the receptionist tells him she’s just gone to answer a call outside, so Connor goes to find her. She’s stood just outside the building; she waves at Connor when she sees him.  
“Mom, I’ve got to go. Yep, I’ll tell him.” She makes a face at Connor as she puts her phone back into her bag. “Hey, how did it go?”  
“Okay,” Connor says. “She said we might make it less frequent if I wanted to.”  
“Do you?”  
“I don’t know, I said I’d think about it.”  
“That’s very mature of you,” Cynthia says. “Oh, Con, are you sure you’ll be okay if me and your father leave for the weekend?”  
“ _Yes_ ,” Connor says. She’s asked him this about twice a day since Larry brought it up. She still doesn’t look convinced.

When they’re back in the car, and Cynthia’s started the engine, she says,  
“I ran into Evan’s mom the other day.”  
“Oh?” Connor says. Evan hadn’t said anything about that, but he supposes it’s possible he and Heidi haven’t had time to catch up yet.  
“I suggested she and Evan come over for dinner whenever she’s free,” Cynthia says. She glances at Connor like she’s expecting him to be angry.   
“Okay?”  
“And we’re going to get a coffee next weekend.”  
“Oh,” says Connor. “Why?”  
“Why not?”  
“Well, I dunno, it’s just kinda weird.”  
“You and Evan are such good friends, I just want to be – I don’t know, I thought it would be nice to get to know his mother a bit better.”  
“Right,” Connor says, gloomily. There’s no way he can convince her not to go. He doesn’t think Heidi would accidentally say something and out them, but.

They go home via the mall, because Cynthia needs to pick some stuff up from the pharmacy, and Connor wanders off to the bookshop while she’s paying. He picks up a copy of a book Jared’s been talking about and skims it. He sees Cynthia come in, but he hasn’t found _Pride and Prejudice_ yet, and he wants to read it properly because it’s important to Alana.

By the time he actually goes to find Cynthia, he’s picked up a third book – one Mr Cowell kept talking about earlier in the year. She’s in the Psychology section, flicking through a book with her reading glasses on.   
“Hey,” she says, when Connor stops beside her. “Found something?”  
“Yeah,” Connor says. Cynthia pushes her glasses up onto her head, tucking the book beneath her arm.  
“Pride and Prejudice?” she asks.   
“It’s Alana’s favourite,” Connor says. Cynthia smiles and nods.

They go and get a coffee. Connor gets a seat by the window and Cynthia sits opposite him. They sit in silence for a while – Connor flicks through _Pride and Prejudice_ and Cynthia’s on her phone, and then she puts it face down on the table and says,  
“So, what are you thinking?”

Connor blinks up at her. “Like, generally?”  
“About Dr West.”  
“Oh,” Connor says. His stomach has tightened unpleasantly. “I don’t know.”  
“If you don’t know, maybe we should keep it a weekly thing?”  
“Yeah,” Connor says. “I don’t know, maybe that’s bad. Like I’m not progressing?”  
“Of course you are.”  
“Sometimes it doesn’t feel like it.”  
“You’re so much better than you were last year,” Cynthia says. He knows – he _knows_ she means that as a good thing, but it doesn’t help the anxious, itchy feeling that he’s doing something wrong.   
“I know,” he says. “But – after a point, it just – like – ”

He thinks Evan would know what he meant without him having to explain it. He thinks Alana might as well. He can never find a way to express exactly what he wants his mom to understand, and then he gets irritated at himself and at her for not getting it and he’s –

“It’s like, I’ve reached a point that I’m not improving from,” he tries, slowly. “And, I don’t – I don’t want that to be, uh, my best. Because it’s not – it’s not, it doesn’t feel good enough and I still feel bad sometimes, like, the same. Um.”  
“Good enough for what?” Cynthia asks. Connor stares at her.   
“I don’t know,” he says. “Everyone. Everything.”

Cynthia’s frowning into her coffee. She doesn’t understand. He waits for a wave of disappointment but it doesn’t come.

“It’s like I have to try harder than everyone else for the most – the stupidest things,” he says. “And I – I do try and I still don’t quite – I’m still not where everyone else is. And it’s really – tiring, and I still have, um. There are times when it’s too much to try and I want to give up, and that’s – where I was when I, um. Last September?”

Cynthia doesn’t say anything for a while. She reaches over and puts her hand over Connor’s, squeezing tight.  
“I know you’re trying,” she says. “I’m so proud of you, every day. I love you, no matter what.”

She doesn’t understand but she is trying too. Connor’s throat is thick so he just smiles at her and hopes she gets it. She smiles back, so maybe she does.

 


	6. Summer, Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you so much, I cannot begin to explain how much your response means to me!! Also, being aware that I was both late with my vague plan for updating weekly and writing a horribly long chapter, I've split it into two. Warnings for panic attacks, references to suicide attempts, mentions of and inexplicit sex.

**From: Evan Hansen**

Hey

Sorry if you’re busy and don’t worry if you are but could you come over?

**To: Evan Hansen**

Yeah sure now?

What’s wrong?

**From: Evan Hansen**

Yes please

Bad day

**To: Evan Hansen**

Ok on my way

 

Evan answers the door wearing one of Connor’s hoodies, and Connor isn’t really sure when he took it. He assumed Cynthia had stolen it to wash it – she does that, sometimes. Connor’s been in the same one for, like, a month, it’s probably nasty by now but it’s his favourite, it’s worn in and the sleeves are long enough that he can curl his fingers up into it and he doesn’t have to think about them coming down past his wrists and showing all the scars –

Evan came round last week, and Connor gave him his hoodie to wear because they were sat in the back garden to avoid Larry and Evan was cold. That’s what happened.

Evan pulls Connor in and Connor kicks the door shut behind him and Evan steps into a hug immediately. He’s kind of shivering and his face feels a little damp against Connor’s shoulder. Connor holds him tight. When Evan steps back, he asks,  
“What happened?”  
“Bad day,” Evan says. He wipes a hand under his nose, kind of reflexively. “It was bad when I woke up and it got worse.”  
“At work?”  
“Yeah.”  
“What happened?”  
“It was overwhelming,” Evan says. “There were a lot of customers and the music was on too loud so I kept mishearing people, and a few people tried to make returns without the receipts and got mad when I said I’d have to find my manager and.”  
“It’s okay,” Connor says, gently. Evan nods. “Do you still feel overwhelmed?”  
“A little bit.”  
“Have you had water?”

Evan shakes his head.

“Food?”  
“I ate lunch. I’m not really hungry.”

Connor sends him upstairs and goes into the kitchen to get him some water. When he gets upstairs, Evan is curled on his bed. He sits up to take the glass.   
“Is touching okay?”  
“Um,” Evan says. “Not right now, but could you sit here with me?”

Connor sits on the bed beside him. Evan shuffles over to make room. He passes the glass back for Connor to put on the bedside table. The sleeves of the hoodie are long on Connor – Evan’s had to roll them up. He puts one hand underneath his cheek when he lies back down and closes his eyes. Then he says,  
“I broke my arm a year ago today.”

Connor swallows. Evan’s eyes are still closed but his mouth is pressed into a line, thin and unhappy.

“Evan,” Connor says. His voice won’t go above a whisper. “I didn’t know.”  
“Nor did I at first,” Evan says. “I just kind of clocked when I was on the bus.”  
“Do you want to talk about it?”  
“No,” Evan says. “Sorry. I mean. I have talked about it and that was enough. I’m okay. I think that’s what made it weird? I am – I actually got to the better place people always said was possible and I never really believed them. But I have friends and – and a job and I’m going to go to college and I have you.”

He hasn’t opened his eyes but he does reach out a hand so Connor takes it, gently.

He doesn’t say anything for a while. He glances over at Evan to make sure he’s okay – he’s hunched in on himself. His breathing is even. Connor suspects he’s tired, mostly, overstimulated and drained. Eventually, he rolls over and smiles sleepily up at Connor.  
“Thank you for coming over,” he says.  
“That’s okay.”  
“Lie down with me?”

Connor does, taking care that they’re still a safe distance apart.

“How do you feel now?”  
“Tired,” Evan says. “But less – exhausted. Just sleepy.”  
“You can sleep if you want to,” Connor tells him. Evan smiles at him. He reaches out and traces one finger around Connor’s mouth.  
“You’re really pretty,” he says. “And kind. And good.”  
“Mmm,” Connor says, doubtfully.  
“I think so,” Evan says. He pillows his cheek against his hand again, the sleeve of Connor’s hoodie bunching up around his fingers. “I’m sorry.”  
“What for?”  
“I wish I was normal and we could do more normal things.”  
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Hansen, but I’m not exactly normal either.”  
“I wish I could,” Evan begins, and then stops and yawns. He closes his eyes. “I wish I could take you on a date.”

Connor huffs a laugh. Evan smiles. Connor can see his eyes still moving beneath the lids.

“You’re my boyfriend, we’ve been on dates.”  
“I mean like, fancy stuff, I could take you to dinner or something,” Evan says. He opens his eyes. “I like being your boyfriend.”  
“I like being yours,” Connor says. Evan’s smile is warm and soft.

He sits up to shrug the hoodie off and tug one of his blankets up over them both. He shifts closer, putting one arm over Connor’s chest, resting his head on the pillow by Connor’s.

The sun is setting. The afternoon light comes through the slats of the blind, illuminating stripes of Evan’s carpet and his desk and his arm. Connor traces the squares of gold light with one finger until Evan mutters,  
“What are you doing?” sleepily against his hair.   
“Sorry,” he says.  
“S’okay,” Evan murmurs. He shifts so his cheek is pressed up against Connor’s shoulder. His fingers twitch and curl loosely in the fabric of Connor’s t-shirt. He’s falling asleep and it’s nice to watch, calming, as the tension eases out of his muscles and his face goes soft and young. Everything is quiet and still. Connor thinks it wouldn’t be so bad, to grow up and keep going, as long as Evan was there with him.

* * *

 

  **From: jared_kleinman@gmail.com**

**Attached: alana_mov_03**

Hey losers, I edited your video. If you guys okay it I can upload it straight to the site?

 

**From: Alana.Beck**

Jared!!

That looks really good!

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Yeah you did ok

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

That’s so good omg

Alana <3

**From: Evan.Hansen**

I like it a lot

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

ill upload it now then?

**From: Alana.Beck**

Yes please

Depending on how it’s received, we could start thinking of new ideas for the next one?

**From: Connor_Murphy**

“the next one” my hand still hurts from the last one can you please chill

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

that’s the name of ur sextape

**From: Alana.Beck**

No! Now we’ve made a start we need to continue it with the same momentum

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Now I know what you guys want I can help you draw it out?

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Would you?

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

I offered didn’t i?

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Ok we could do that

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Heart warming

**From: Connor_Murphy**

shut up Jared

**From: Alana.Beck**

Shut up Jared

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

shut up jared

**From: Evan_Hansen**

Shut up Jared

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

wtf that was simultaneous

did u guys practice that or smth?

* * *

 

 On Tuesday, Connor and Jared go to pick Evan up from his shift at Pottery Barn. They get there too early, because Connor drove and he and Jared are of the same opinion that the speed limit is more like a speed guideline when the road is empty.

They wander round the mall for the fifteen minutes until Evan’s supposed to meet them. Jared gets a pretzel.

“You got any colleges in mind, yet?” he asks. Connor shoves his hands in his pockets.  
“Uh, no, not really.”  
“You could come visit mine, in the fall. Evan said he would, you guys are attached at the hip anyway.”  
“Thanks.”  
“Nah, I mean, I’d like you to.”

Connor glances down at him, half expecting him to be taking the piss, but he’s balling up the pretzel bag to aim it at the next trashcan they pass. It bounces off the rim and misses.  
“Pathetic,” Connor says. Jared flips him off and jogs over to pick it up.  
“Hansen’s in my head,” he says. “All that save the planet crap.”  
“Zoe’s got him something like that for his birthday,” Connor says. “A t-shirt? It says something like that on it.”  
“I think it’s kinda weird,” Jared says. “That Evan and Zoe are such good friends.”  
“You’re just jealous,” Connor says. He’s kind of joking but Jared just huffs and stuffs his hands in his pockets, so maybe it hit too close to home.  
“Isn’t it weird for you?” Jared asks. He’s on the defensive. “Like, Evan had a crush on your sister for about two years.”  
“Yeah, okay,” Connor says.

The pause is increasingly uncomfortable and then Jared scrubs a hand over his nose.  
“Sorry,” he mutters. “That was a dick thing to say. Evan really likes you.”

Connor shrugs.

“Are you looking forward to college?” he asks. Evan’s meant to join them in five minutes. Jared puffs his cheeks out.  
“Fuck yeah,” he says.   
“You’re not nervous at all?”  
“What, you think I should be?”  
“No.”  
“College is like, the best parts of school without the shit stuff,” Jared says. Connor wrinkles his nose.  
“That’s kind of optimistic considering you’ve never been.”  
“Yeah, well someone’s got to balance you and Hansen and your pessimism out.”  
“How far away will you be?”  
“About two hours,” Jared says. He flashes a grin. “Why? You’ll miss me?”  
“I probably won’t stop thinking about you,” Connor says, flatly. Jared cackles.

Evan appears through a gap in the crowd around Pottery Barn. He’s zipping up his hoodie – Connor’s hoodie. He starts smiling when he sees them, gives an awkward little wave and then goes furiously red.  
“Is that Buffy’s?” Jared demands, when he’s reached them.  
“I think the guy behind you thought I was waving at him,” Evan whispers.   
“Are you _seriously_ wearing his clothes?”  
“Hey Jared.”  
“How was your shift?”  
“Loud,” Evan says. “But okay.”  
“Good,” Connor says.  
“This is gay,” Jared says. “I’m hungry, you guys wanna go to Taco Bell?”  
“You literally just had a pretzel,” Connor says.  
“So?”  
“I’m kind of hungry,” Evan admits.  
“Taco Bell it is, then,” Jared says.

Connor isn’t hungry so he goes and gets a table while Evan and Jared go up to order. In the queue, Jared’s rocking up onto his tiptoes and Evan is laughing at him, pushing up the sleeves of Connor’s hoodie. Connor doesn’t think he’ll be getting it back, but he doesn’t really mind. He’s been trying to get used to not wearing sleeves. So far, the furthest he’s gotten without them is the bathroom, but.

Evan passes him a can of Coke as he sits down.  
“They had a deal,” he says, when Connor raises his eyebrows. Jared mouths _no they didn’t._ Connor kicks him under the table.  
“Murphy and I were talking about when you guys are gonna come visit me at college,” Jared says, scowling at Connor.  
“Oh yeah, I’d like that,” Evan says.   
“’Cos you can’t visit Alana and not me,” Jared says.  
“I’m not going all the way to Princeton,” Connor says. Jared snorts.  
“Okay, keep telling yourself that. Also, you’re getting so good at the whole friendship thing, it’s really impressive.”  
“Fuck off,” Connor says. Jared bares his teeth in a grin, his mouth full of food. Connor makes a face. “Disgusting.”  
“Disgusting,” Jared parrots back. Connor rolls his eyes and bites down hard on a smile. He doesn’t think he does it very well because both Evan and Jared start laughing.

"So, when are you two gonna come visit me?" he demands.  
"I don't know, in the fall sometime?" Evan suggests.  
"Very specific."  
"Won't you want to decide closer to the time?" Connor points out. "You might have other stuff to do."

He's said it when he realises that's probably what Jared's worried about - not having anything else to do, not having friends. 

Jared says, "I'm  _sure_ I'll find a way to fit you into my busy timetable, Buffy, chillax."  
"Don't say that again," Connor tells him. "Uh. How are the people you've been talking to?"

Jared sighs.  
"They're okay. The shorter guy's way nicer than the tall one, he's kind of an MCR, vampire - "  
"Jesus, I meant the people from your college, you fucker."  
"They seem okay," Jared says. "I've met a few people who want to do the same courses as me, so that's good, I guess."  
"Definitely!" Evan says. "It'll be nice to know people when you go in! And you're really friendly so you'll meet people in your dorm and stuff really quickly."  
"Yeah," Jared says, but he sounds a little bit happier.

Evan's definitely better at comforting people than Connor is.

* * *

 

  **From: Alana.Beck**

Evan when are you free next week?

**From: Evan_Hansen**

I’m working Sunday-Tuesday and Friday :)

**From: Alana.Beck**

What do you want to do for your birthday?

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

BIRTH DAY BIRTHDAY BIRTH DAY MY LITTLE EVAN BECOMES A MAN

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

“my little evan”

Gross

Conspiracy theory does evan have a murphy kink or do the murphys have an evan kink

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Im gonna remove you from this chat

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Fight me hot topic

**From: Evan_Hansen**

I don’t mind we don’t have to do anything

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Do you want to do something?

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

WE WANT TO MAKE YOU HAPPY ON YOUR BIRTHDAY

**From: Evan_Hansen**

Itd be nice to see all of you

And before Jared goes away

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Yh yh we leave on Friday

**From: Alana.Beck**

Okay I’m going to look up some things we could do

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Evan do you remember the orchard?

**From: Evan_Hansen**

Yeah :)

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

What like the orchard mom and dad took us to?

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Yeah there’s a fair there all next week

**From: Evan_Hansen**

That would be nice!!!

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

What orchard

**From: Alana.Beck**

The one on the highway?

I thought it closed

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Yeah it did but the church on Junction runs events there sometimes

**From: Evan_Hansen**

If you guys wanted to go we could do that on Tuesday or Wednesday or something?

**From: Alana.Beck**

Im working on Tuesday

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Unless you have plans for your actual birthday we could do it Weds??

**From: Evan_Hansen**

That would be nice :)

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

We could do something on Saturday as well?

**From: Connor_Murphy**

No

**From: Alana.Beck**

??

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Me and evan are doing something

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Is that something each other?

**Connor_Murphy removed TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman from the chat**  

* * *

 

“What are we doing on Saturday?” Evan asks. His voice is kind of tinny over the connection, echo-y, like he might be in the kitchen. Connor is on his bed, the phone jammed between his shoulder and his ear, trying not to spill nail varnish over his sheets.  
“I’m gonna take you out,” he says.  
“Like, an assassin?” Evan says. Connor sighs. “Sorry. Too much time with Jared, I know. Take me out where?”  
“You said you wanted to go on a proper date,” Connor says. “So, I’m gonna take you on a proper date.”

There’s silence on the other end.

“Is that okay?” Connor asks.  
“Um,” says Evan. “Yep. That’s. That’s really nice of you and – That would be really, really nice, sorry, I was just – um, wow, you’re really – ”  
“Okay,” Connor says. He can imagine Evan smiling and it does things to his stomach. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”  
“Okay,” Evan says.   
“Stop it.”  
“Stop what?”  
“Doing the – smiling thing.”  
“You can’t see me.”  
“I can _hear_ it.”  
“Sorry.”

Connor doesn’t say anything, grinning himself as he caps the nail polish bottle and leans over to slide it onto his windowsill. He can hear the little exhale of a laugh on Evan’s end, and then the hiss of him opening the fridge or something. He felt really shitty this morning.   
“Hey,” he says, before he can convince himself not to.  
“Hey,” Evan says.  
“I like you.”  
“Cool,” says Evan. “I like you.”  
“That’s good,” says Connor. Evan laughs again, a little shyer, this time. “I’ll work out where we’re going and I’ll send you the details so you can look the place up on Instagram to see what other people wear there.”  
“I don’t do that,” Evan says. Connor rolls his eyes. “How do you know I do that?”  
“’Cos you’ve done it before,” Connor says. “I think it’s smart.”  
“No you don’t, you think it’s stupid, you’re just being nice.”  
“Where the fuck did you get the idea I’m ever _nice_?”

Evan laughs. There’s a clatter – maybe he’s cooking.

“You’re always nice to me,” he says. Connor blows out his cheeks.  
“Don’t say that, it’s not true.”  
“Yes it is,” Evan says, patiently.  
"Whatever."  
"Yes it is," Evan says, firmer.

Connor can't really do anything because his nails are still wet but he kind of wants to punch a pillow.  
"Okay," he says, in his best  _I want to stop talking about this_ voice. Evan drops it.

* * *

 

 Cynthia and Larry are having an argument downstairs. Connor can hear them because he doesn’t have a door.

He knocks on Zoe’s and she calls,  
“Come in!”  
“Hey,” Connor says. He stays on the threshold until she looks up.  
“What?”  
“Nothing.”  
“You can hear them, huh?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Come in,” Zoe says. “Shut the door, I don’t wanna listen to that.”

She’s lying on her bed flipping through a magazine. She sits up when Connor sits awkwardly down at her desk. He hasn’t been in Zoe’s room in ages. He still kind of feels like an invasive, unwelcome presence. He was the reason she needed a safe space, a lock on her door, in the first place.

“What’s it about this time?” she asks. Connor shrugs.  
“Money? Or – me, I guess?”  
“It’s not you,” she says, dismissively. Connor raises his eyebrows at her because about eighty percent of Cynthia and Larry’s arguments used to be about him. “You know they both love you, right?”

Connor doesn’t say anything. Zoe busies herself unsticking a perfume sample from inside her magazine. “They care so much because they love you. You’re, like, their first born, their son.”  
“Yeah, and you’re everything they wanted me to be.”  
“Someone had to be,” Zoe snaps, and then she looks mortified but Connor doesn’t really care. He supposes it’s true; Zoe had to bring up new friends she’d made, the good grades she was getting, the teachers who loved her, the solos she was playing in band to distract Cynthia and Larry from the Connor-shaped problem in their lives. Zoe never got to be anything but perfect because Connor never was. Something else he took from her. “Stop it,” Zoe says. Connor looks up. “Spiralling? Stop it. I didn’t mean it like that. I know – Well, I don’t know, that’s the problem but. Hey, it’s different now, right? You can distract them with – uh, the You Will Be Found video or something? And I can text Alana under the table.”  
“Is that your idea of misbehaving?” Connor asks, a little amused despite himself. She flips him off but she’s smiling and it doesn’t feel like they’re about to have a fight anymore.

“Do you and Alana go on dates?” he asks, after a while. Zoe flips a page and then looks up, eyes narrowed.  
“Uh, yeah,” she says. “Don’t you?”  
“No. Well – yeah, but we don’t really – Go places?”  
“Right.”  
“But I want to take him somewhere, don’t make that face.”  
“It’s _cute_ , I’m _smiling_.”  
“Don’t smile, it’s not cute.”  
“Okay,” Zoe drawls. “There’s this adorable Italian bistro thing on Junction? Parking was shit when we went there, we left the car like, three blocks away, but it’s a nice walk? And the food’s good, not too pricey if he insists on splitting it? We liked it, and ‘Lana’s kind of a fussy eater, so.”  
“What’s it called?”  
“I can’t remember,” Zoe says. “Look it up? Or I can ask – ”  
“No, don’t, otherwise it’ll become a whole _thing_.”  
“You’re taking your boyfriend on a date, it’s not a big deal, wow.”

Connor flips her off and swings the chair round to her desk so he’s not looking at her. She’s got a teetering stack of pink, heart-shaped PostIts in the corner by an old photograph of their grandma. Connor’s never really thought of Zoe as someone who was into PostIts, and unless Cynthia’s been buying them randomly, he thinks maybe they were a gift from Alana, for some reason.

“So is it for his birthday or something?” Zoe asks.   
“No, it’s just – Okay?”  
“Jeez,” Zoe says. He can hear the laugh in her voice. “What’ve you got him?”  
“For his birthday?”  
“Yeah?”  
“A – ” Connor hesitates. He got it last week, he made Cynthia drive him up to the garden centre after therapy and made up some bullshit about looking after plants being good for him, or something. He’s hoping she’ll forget about it when he gives it away. “A bonsai tree?”  
“A what?” Zoe says. “A _tree_? Dude, that’s genius.”

Connor swings back round, slowly.

The shouting from downstairs seems to have stopped; either they’ve made up or Larry’s gone and locked himself in his study.

Zoe's clearly thinking along the same lines. "Do you reckon we should go and pick up something for dinner?"  
"Maybe," Connor says.   
"Pizza, or something?"  
"Sure. Then they can unite against us and our tendency to eat junk food or something."

Zoe ignores this, stepping into her Converse. "I'll go see what it's like down there."  
"Good luck."  
"You get your car keys."  
"Oh, I get to drive this time?"  
"Don't be a dick," she calls, over her shoulder.

Connor goes into his room for his shoes and his keys and meets Zoe by the car. Larry had retreated to the study; Cynthia was on the phone. Zoe slides into the passenger seat.  
"I'll order now," she says. "Just drive round the block or something. What do you want?"  
"I don't mind. Pepperoni or something."  
"Great minds," she says. 

They're both silent for a while. Then she nudges him with her elbow.

"It'll be fifteen minutes," she says. "Hey, not to sound like an uncaring bitch but it's kind of nice having you here to deal with it with."  
"Yeah," Connor says, because he used to go get high in a park when they started shouting loud enough to hear upstairs. He doesn't know what Zoe did.

* * *

 On Saturday, at quarter to seven, Connor sneaks out of the house and drives over to Evan’s. The sneaking is totally necessary because if Cynthia sees him, and sees that he’s kind of made an effort, she’ll ask _question_ s. He told her he was going over to Evan’s to work on some of the YWBF emails, which gives him a ready-made excuse for if he misses a call accidentally or on purpose or whatever.

Evan’s sat on the step when Connor pulls up and leans over to open the door.  
“Hey,” he says, sliding into the passenger seat.   
“Hey,” says Connor. “You okay?”  
“Yeah! Why wouldn’t I be?”  
“’Cos you were just sat on the step?”  
“Oh,” says Evan. He wrinkles his nose which is – really – cute. “Uh, yeah, just my mom. She’s really excited and I didn’t want you to have to deal with it.”  
“Oh,” Connor says. Actually, it makes him kind of happy that Heidi is glad but he gets Evan’s reservations.   
“Is that okay?”  
“Yep,” Connor says. “You look nice, by the way.”

Evan rolls his eyes.

They listen to the radio on the drive over; Evan hums along, possibly without realising. Whenever they reach a red light Connor glances over at him and sometimes Evan is already looking back and they smile and look away and Connor’s heart feels very full.

They park a few streets away. Connor flicks through his messages while walking around to open Evan’s door – two from Zoe, all caps, wishing him luck with an obnoxious number of smiley faces. He turns his phone round so Evan can see when he reaches him.  
“Good luck?” Evan says. “Are you nervous?”  
“No,” Connor says. “Shut up.”

Evan laughs and reaches out to take Connor’s other hand in his, swinging it between them.   
“Hey,” says Connor. “Tell me something cool about trees.”

Evan laughs, covers his face with his other hand. “Oh _no_ , there’s too much pressure to come up with something cool if you’re right _here,_ like, I don’t have the time to compose a message and make it sound – Oh, wait, okay, I don’t think I’ve told you this one – so plantains and banana trees, right?”  
“Right.”  
“They’re not _actually_ trees, they’re _herbs_. They’re the world’s largest herbs. I guess ‘cos they’re so big people just group them in with trees.”  
“That’s a herb fact, not a tree fact, you’re cheating.”  
“Shut up,” Evan says. “You don’t make the rules.”  
“I do make the rules, I said tell me something cool about _trees_ and in you come with your fancy herb knowledge – ”

Evan digs an elbow into his ribs, laughing. “You’re an _idiot_ ,” he says. Connor huffs, but ruins it entirely by smiling.

The restaurant is cute – round tables with red and white checked tablecloths, red lampshades over the lightbulbs, little pots of herbs on the windowsill and the menus are written in Italian, with the translation printed neatly underneath.

“This is fancy,” Evan whispers, when the waiter has disappeared for a bread basket. “I like it. It smells good.” He flips his menu over. Connor watches him mouth out the Italian to himself, testing it. He puts his chin in his hands to cover what would probably be a disgustingly adoring smile and frowns hard at the pasta list to make up for it.

The waiter comes back to take their order, and then the menus. Evan props his chin in his hand to gaze at the herb pots. “I wanted mom to get a basil plant last year,” he says.   
“Did she?”  
“No.” He frowns. “I don’t remember why. Probably isn’t enough light in our kitchen, anyway.”

Connor thinks that there is always going to be plenty of light wherever Evan is, but that’s sappy so he doesn’t say it.

“So, our moms are friends.”  
“Weird,” Evan agrees. “But kind of nice?”  
“Yeah?” Connor shrugs. “What do they even talk about?”  
“I dunno,” Evan says. “Politics?”  
“Politics?”  
“Isn’t that something adults talk about?”  
“I guess, maybe,” Connor says, laughing. “So when you turn eighteen you’ll wake up suddenly knowing the ins and outs of Capitol Hill?”  
“I _knew_ it,” Evan says. His phone goes off; he scrambles to turn it off, blushing. “Sorry!”  
“S’okay.”  
“It’s Jared,” Evan says, scanning the message. He makes a face. “Being disgusting. As usual. And it’s off. Sorry.”  
“It’s okay, seriously.”  
“I haven’t really done anything like this before,” Evan admits. He’s fidgeting with the tablecloth. “Have you?”  
“It’s cute that you think that’s likely,” Connor says. “It’s okay.”  
“Okay,” Evan says. “Uh – Hey, what are you reading at the minute?”

Connor’s reading _Frankenstein_ and with Evan’s prodding questions, he ends up launching into an explanation of the book and how it’s really different to all the movie adaptations he’s seen and so much better, it’s a pity they leave all the good stuff out when they make it into films, it ends up kind of completely missing the original _point_ –

“I’m rambling,” he says, suddenly self-conscious. Evan beams at him.  
“I like it,” he says. “I’ve never read _Frankenstein_.”  
“Yeah, it’s okay,” Connor says. He reaches for a breadstick and snaps it in half for something to do.   
“How’re things with Larry?” Evan asks. Connor makes a face.  
“Larryish. What about you? What’s happening with your dad?”  
“I dunno,” Evan says. “He was talking about me coming to visit this summer but. I’ve got work, and the dates he was suggesting were kind of inconvenient, um. That sounds terrible, but. I dunno. It would be nice to see him. I haven’t seen him in _ages_ , properly, y’know? But. I dunno, I just feel kind of – weird about it?”  
“Weird?”  
“Uh. I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like, he wasn’t there, for most of my life, y’know? There all these, like _dad_ things, that people do with their fathers and mine just. Uh. My mom taught me how to tie a tie? She had to look up all these tutorials on YouTube and she said it wasn’t a problem, uh, she’d lasted long enough without being able to do it and it was a useful skill and that kind of thing. But that’s, y’know, it’s a dad thing. And – shaving? Mr Kleinman, actually – he taught me and Jared at the same time. And now he wants us to have some kind of relationship but. I needed him and he wasn’t there and now he suddenly wants back in and I dunno. We rebuilt our whole lives around him not being there.” He’s staring hard at his plate.   
“When I was fifteen,” Connor says, quietly. “Um. I spent spring break in rehab. Uh. I’d crashed my dad’s car, and he got pissed and sent me away, and um. I came back, and the week after it was my birthday. And he got me a baseball glove.”  
“A baseball glove?”  
“Mmhmm. I’d just come out of rehab. Y’know like. The peoples there – they’d said to my parents, they thought I needed help. And I’d said to them, that drugs and – Alcohol, it made everything in my head more bearable because it wasn’t so loud. And he got me a glove. Like we were just back to pretending everything was okay. And we all knew that it wasn’t. He was still driving this rental car until he got a new one and the garage door was still all scratched up and he thought we’d just go into the back garden and play catch. I just – I remember sitting there, with this glove, and thinking it had to be a joke.”

Evan slides his water glass across the table to clink it gently against Connor’s.   
“To shitty fathers, huh?” he says. Connor smiles.  
“New topic?”  
“ _Yeah_.”

* * *

 

  **From: Evan Hansen**

Are you awake?

**To: Evan Hansen**

Yep

What’s up?

**From: Evan Hansen**

Nothing

Just

Wanted to talk to you

**To: Evan Hansen**

I can come pick you up?

**From: Evan Hansen**

Yes please

 

When he pulls up to the curb outside Evan’s house, Evan is sat on the doorstep, hugging his jacket to him. He pushes up as Connor leans over to open the door, slides into the passenger seat and kisses Connor over the console.   
“Hi,” he says, a little breathlessly.   
“Hi,” Connor says, a little surprised. Evan clicks his phone screen on.  
“That might be the last time I kiss you while I’m seventeen,” he says.   
“That’s weird,” Connor says. Evan smiles. He leans his head against the window, kind of watching Connor, and curls his fingers around the edge of his seat. Connor backs them out of the space. Neither of them say anything until Connor’s turned the corner.  
“Left or right?”  
“Left,” Evan says.

He pulls into a space outside a hairdresser. The neon lights are still on in the window, bathing the sidewalk outside and half of Evan’s face in weird, blue light.   
“Eleven fifty seven,” Connor says. Evan makes a face. He reaches over and tugs Connor in to kiss him again. It’s kind of awkward, over the console, and the angle – but it’s Evan, and it’s nice, the smell of his aftershave and the detergent on his clothes and one of his hands gentle on the inside of Connor’s wrist. He pulls back a little.  
“Eleven fifty nine,” he says. They wait until the numbers flick over and then Evan sighs.  
“Happy birthday,” Connor says. “You can drink in Europe legally, now.”  
“Pity we’re not in Europe,” Evan says. Connor laughs.   
“It’s still midnight, make a wish.”  
“Um,” Evan says. He squeezes his eyes shut. “Okay.”

Connor watches him. A few streets away, a car alarm goes off. He thinks Evan is so – His heart is somewhere in his throat, too tight, and everything inside is kind of warm and Evan is _so_ – Even in the stripes of harsh light from the streetlamps and the hairdressers’ sign –

Evan opens his eyes. Connor looks away.  
“Got one?”  
“Yep,” Evan says. He leans over the console again and kisses Connor and it’s nice but Connor’s never really made out with anyone in the front of a car before and it’s quite cramped and someone’s elbow hits the radio and they startle apart when the news reporter’s voice comes on, way too loud, talking about a traffic incident up on the highway.

Evan sits back in his seat, properly, and redoes his seatbelt.   
“That was nice,” he says.   
“Cool,” says Connor. He reaches over to turn the radio off. “I should get you home then, huh?”  
“Unfortunately so,” Evan says, sliding his hands beneath his knees.

Connor sneaks a glance at him and finds him staring back so he grins and Evan beams.

* * *

 

 On Wednesday, Connor and Zoe get into Zoe’s car and drive over to Evan’s. Zoe drives. Connor’s beginning to think she has control issues, which he guesses would make sense and is probably his fault but seriously, she will not let anybody _touch_ her car. Connor’s got their presents for Evan strapped in to the seat next to him.

They both get out when Zoe stops outside Evan’s house. Connor passes her the presents up from the back seat and she carries them carefully up to the porch and Connor rings the buzzer.

Evan opens the door, beaming. “Hi!”  
“Hi!” Zoe says. “Happy birthday!” She’s about to start singing, Connor can tell, so he says,  
“Happy birthday.”  
“Thanks,” Evan says. “Come in! My mom made pancakes, we have some left over if you want – ”  
“Yes!” Zoe says, shoving past Connor into the kitchen. They can hear her greet Heidi, the scrape of chair legs against the floor.   
“How’s your birthday been so far then?” Connor asks.   
“Uh, I don’t know anything more about politics but I did have pancakes.”  
“So pretty good, then?”  
“Pretty good,” Evan says. They stand there, smiling at each other, and then Heidi calls,  
“ _Evan_!”  
“Sorry!” Evan says. He makes a face at Connor, reaches out to take his hand and drags him after him into the kitchen.

Zoe’s sat at the table with a mouth full of pancakes and the presents for Evan stacked in front of her. Heidi is making coffee. Evan drops into the seat opposite Zoe so Connor takes the one next to him and Heidi puts down one of the coffee cups in front of him without him asking.   
“Thanks,” he says. Zoe says,  
“Mmmmf,” and gives Heidi a thumbs up. Then she shoves the presents across the table at Evan, who looks genuinely surprised, like they might have been carrying wrapped boxes for their _other_ friend with a birthday today.   
“Oh, no,” he says. “You didn’t – I mean, thank you so much, but – I feel bad – Sorry, you didn’t have to!”  
“We know,” Zoe says, swallowing. “But we wanted to, so. Open them! Mine first!”

Evan grins at her. He opens the card first – it’s yellow, with a dinosaur on it, and it’s got a badge saying ‘8 today’ which Zoe scrawled a _1_ in front of in sharpie. It’s probably an inside joke because Evan laughs and pins the badge onto his collar immediately.   
“Thank you,” he says.  
“Present!” Zoe says.

Evan makes a face. He looks embarrassed to be opening it, but then he sees what it is and his eyes light up.   
“Oh my God that’s so awesome, that’s so cool, oh wow Zoe thank you so much!”  
“Dude, it’s no problem,” Zoe says. “I saw it and I thought of you.”

It’s a blue t-shirt with a picture of the world printed on it, and above it, the words ‘ _stay cool’_.

“It’s like, the environment and puns, so I figured it’d be perfect for you,” Zoe continues. “’Cos you like bad jokes, y’know? I assume that’s why you’re friends with Jared. And Connor.”  
“Shut up,” Connor tells her.   
“This is so cool,” Evan says. He seems content to just stare at the shirt so Zoe nudges Connor’s present closer until he notices. “Oh, um.”  
“You don’t have to – ”  
“You guys are exactly the same, yes you do have to open it, Evan, but there’s no pressure, we wanted to get you things,” Zoe says, firmly. Evan’s gone slightly red and he’s definitely avoiding making eye contact with Connor as he opens the box – Connor put holes through the lid so the plant could breathe – he and Alana wrapped it last night with WikiHow open on Alana’s phone in front of them.

Evan opens the lid and says,  
“Oh.”

He stands up to carefully take the plant out of the box, hands cupped around the pot. Heidi says,  
“Hon, that’s lovely.”  
“It’s a bonsai tree,” Evan says. “They’re evergreen and they can be any size from one inch to four feet – don’t worry, mom. Connor, this is so – Thank you so much.”  
“It’s fine, whatever,” Connor says. Zoe rolls her eyes.

* * *

 

 “A _tree_ ,” Jared says. “Dude, that’s so –”  
“Gay?” Connor suggests, dryly. Jared aims finger guns at him.   
“It’s really cool, actually,” Evan says. “Bonsai trees are – ”  
“Save the tree fact foreplay for the bedroom please, Hansen,” Jared says. Connor accidentally shoves him into a group of girls walking past. He rights himself, scowling, and tries to apologise but they’re glaring at him and walk off.   
“Fuck you,” Jared says, when they’ve gone.  
“Don’t be a dick,” Connor says.   
“Popcorn!” Alana says, reappearing with Zoe in tow. They’ve got two boxes of the stuff – Zoe passes the salty over to Evan.   
“Shall we go sit down somewhere?” she asks.

The fair takes up most of the area and families and couples have spread rugs out beneath most of the trees around the periphery but they find space behind the hot dog cart and Alana pulls her picnic blanket out of her backpack.

“How does eighteen feel, huh?” Jared asks, lying down. Evan, sat with his back to the tree and his shoulder pressed up against Connor’s, says,  
“Mostly like seventeen except now I could drink in Europe.”  
“Pity we’re not in Europe,” Zoe says.   
“You couldn’t drink in Europe, you’re still a baby,” Jared says.  
“Only a few more months and then I could.”  
“We should go to Europe,” Alana says.  
“With what money?”  
“I dunno, we’d have to save up, but it could be a cool trip to take after graduation.”  
“Your graduation or our graduation?” Evan asks.   
“Yours, we’ll need the extra time to get the money,” Alana says, decisively. “We could go to London.”  
“I want to go to Paris,” Zoe says.  
“Barcelona’s meant to be pretty cool,” Evan says. Connor smothers a smile.   
“What about America?” Jared says. “Greatest country in the world? Dude, we could go to Vegas.”  
“That is a terrible idea,” Connor says. Jared looks hurt.  
“ _Why_?”  
“If someone made a list of the people in the world who shouldn’t go to Vegas the most, you and Connor would be number one and two,” Zoe says. She reaches over for a handful of popcorn. Jared considers it.  
“You know what?” he says. “That’s fair. But when I get married, I’m having my bachelor party there and you can’t stop me.”  
“No one would dare,” Zoe says, darkly. She stretches out her feet, so the tops of her sandals are against Alana’s leg. “How’s the internship going, babe?”  
“It’s so interesting,” Alana says. “But I don’t think it’s the kind of work I’d be looking to going into in the future? Ethically, I’m not sure I’m okay with making people into cases – no offence, Murphys.”  
“None taken, Larry doesn’t have a heart,” Connor says. Zoe rolls her eyes. “If you keep doing that, one day they’re gonna get stuck and I will laugh.”  
“Do you have your door back yet?” Jared asks.   
“Nope.”

Jared whistles through his teeth. “Man, how long’s that been, then?”  
“Ten months,” Connor says. There’s a pause, probably while that settles in with the others. Ten months since Connor lost his door means ten months since he tried to kill himself.  
“It feels like we’ve known each other longer than that,” Zoe says. Jared opens his mouth – he’s probably going to say something like, ‘ _that’s cos you have known each longer than that’_ but Alana cuts him off.  
“It feels like it’s been less time than that,” she says. She reaches out to pat Connor’s elbow. “Not in a bad way. Just – so much has happened. Everything’s different.”  
“Good different,” Evan agrees. He passes the popcorn back to Zoe to finish it off.   
“There’s a Hook-A-Duck over there,” Jared says, tipping his head to the left. “Evan’s the worst at Hook-A-Duck.”  
“My hands shake,” Evan explains.   
“We saw a helter-skelter earlier,” Zoe adds. She nudges Connor’s knee with her foot. “Do you remember going to Coney Island when we were younger?”  
“Yep,” Connor says. “You ate three hot dogs and went on the helter-skelter and got sick.”  
“Mom had to give me her cardigan to wear instead of my t-shirt,” Zoe says. “Good times, good times.”  
“You got sick and ruined your clothes, how is that a good time?” Jared demands.  
“We don’t have high standards in our household,” Zoe says, dismissively.   
“That’s why you guys are dating who you’re dating then, huh?” Jared says. He hears it back and winces. “That was too far, I heard that one. Sorry guys.”

Alana just rolls her eyes and stands up, dusting the backs of her legs off for grass.

“Let’s go hook some ducks then, shall we?”

Jared is actually the best at Hook-A-Duck but that’s not hard because Evan refuses to have a go because of his hands and Connor refuses to have a go because he’s not five years old; Zoe throws Alana off by putting her hands, cold from carrying a new bottle of ice water, on Alana’s shoulders and Alana throws Zoe off by blowing hard into her ear. It’s a prize for every duck, though, and the guy doesn’t really seem to give a shit so they all win something but Jared’s is the biggest – a teddy bear with a red and green striped bow around its neck. He turns round and gives it to Evan.  
“You take it,” he says, looking at his shoes. Evan makes a face.  
“You won it.”  
“So? I either gave you nothing or, like, my old stuff for your last few birthdays.”  
“This cost you a dollar,” Connor says. “That’s not exactly making up for being a shit friend.”  
“You weren’t a shit friend,” Evan says, firmly, stepping back on Connor’s foot. Connor shuts up. “But thanks, Jared.”

They go on the dodgems next. Jared and Evan take one car and Zoe has another to herself. Connor and Alana lean against the barrier to watch.   
“You really hate this kind of thing, huh?” Alana says. Connor turns to look at her.  
“No,” he says, unconvincingly. She raises her eyebrows. “Yeah, a little. Don’t tell Evan.”

She mimes zipping her lips shut and pocketing the key. He turns back to the dodgems – Jared is steering their car wildly after Zoe’s and Evan is clinging onto the pole for dear life, eyes shut.

“Why don’t you?” Alana asks. “Like this?”  
“I dunno,” Connor says. The paint on top of the barriers is flaking off. He gets his fingernail underneath one and pulls it up and it comes easily, a long strip of navy. He crumbles it against his palm. “We used to get dragged to a lot of these kind of things? Uh. It was fun, when me and Zoe got on but then everything went to shit and it was just like, four hours of me following the rest of them and. Yeah.”

Once, they’d bumped into one of Larry’s richer clients at something like this. Larry had introduced his wife and his daughter and then fallen silent. Connor was stood a little bit away from them, clicking his phone on and off like he might get a message that wasn’t from his phone company through sheer force of will. None of them said anything about it; Cynthia didn’t chime in and Zoe just looked uncomfortable, her hands in her pockets. Connor didn’t talk to them for three days but he doesn’t think any of them noticed.

He doesn’t tell Alana that. She takes everything very personally, and he doesn’t want to accidentally turn her against his parents or something, especially when Zoe seems pretty set on keeping her around for as long as possible.

* * *

 

 Jared has to go and pack for his trip, so Zoe drops Connor off at Evan’s house afterwards and says she’ll pick him up when she leaves Alana’s.

Heidi’s out at work; she’s left Evan a PostIt on the fridge promising she’ll be back in time for dinner but if he has time could he run to the shops and pick up some milk.

“I guess I can’t offer you tea, then,” Evan says. “Or coffee. Or just a glass of milk? I mean, you’ve never asked for a glass of milk but maybe you like it? I don’t know, it’s good for you, it’s good for your bones and your teeth, my mom made me drink lots of it when I was younger.” He looks up at Connor, a little apologetic.   
“It’s fine, I can get milk at home,” Connor says. “Dude, seriously, I don’t want milk.”

Evan says,  
“Right.” He bounces up on the balls of his feet. “Okay, let’s go upstairs?”

He put the bonsai tree on his window sill before they left earlier. He goes straight over to it now, kneeling down to check the soil and other stuff, probably. Connor was entirely reliant on the little care advice slip they gave him when he bought it. Evan probably reads those online when he’s bored.

There’s a box on his desk, with Evan’s name scrawled on it in messy, block capitals.

_Frankenstein_ is upside down on the pillow, left open wherever Evan stopped reading it. Connor smiles and pushes his sleeves up because it’s hot.

Evan turns round, clambering back to his feet and drops onto the bed, dogearing the page and dropping it onto the bedside table. “I’m reading Frankenstein,” he offers. Connor sit next to him.  
“So I see.”  
“It’s pretty good.”  
“Yeah?”  
“Yeah, I like it, but it’s written kind of – old fashioned? Is that stupid?”  
“No, it definitely is, it’s kind of funny actually, because Mary Shelley – the author, right? She was married to this poet and he changed the whole manuscript when she’d finished it and made it ten times harder to read. The original draft and the edited version she published after he died make way more sense.”  
“Cool,” Evan says. He’s doing that thing again, where he smiles all soft and secret at Connor. “How do you know all that?”  
“There’s a preface? In the version I have. Uh, I read her version too, but after his. I could lend it to you, if you want.”  
“Yes please,” Evan says. “Thanks for today.”  
“I didn’t do anything.”  
“Yes you did,” Evan says. “You didn’t have to be there if you didn’t want to be but you were there and it was nice so thank you.”

Connor sighs. “I’m sorry.”  
“It’s okay.”  
“No it’s not I didn’t want you to know.”  
“I don’t know,” Evan says, eyes big. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Connor Murphy definitely _loves_ going to fairs and we’re going to go to all of them –”

Connor rolls his eyes and kisses him. Evan’s hands go straight up around his shoulders, pulling him closer.

“Turns out you’re really annoying,” he says, leaning back. “Who knew?”  
“Most people who get to know me,” Evan says, nodding.   
“That’s not true, I didn’t mean it, you’re not annoying, you’re great.”

Evan’s eyes shift, to the bed, down to Connor’s mouth and then back up to his eyes. He makes a face.

“You’re alright,” Connor corrects. Evan laughs. It looks a little accidental.   
“Okay,” he says. “I can deal with being alright.”

 Connor kisses him again. Evan’s hands are warm against his skin, beneath his t-shirt, and when he accidentally scraped his fingernails down Connor’s side, Connor made a kind of embarrassing sound but then Evan did it again and that was –

Connor’s hands are beneath Evan’s shirt when Evan sits back. He pushes Connor’s hair out of his eyes. He’s still breathing kind of heavily and it’s really – attractive –

“My mom’s gonna be home soon,” he says. Connor’s hair has fallen back over his eye; he reaches down to move it and then kisses him again, soft and then not so soft. His lips are red when he sits back, smoothing a hand down the crumpled fabric of Connor’s shirt. “Tonight was fun,” he says. Connor smirks. Evan flushes. “You _know_ what I _mean_. The fair was fun.”  
“Making out with you was pretty fun as well.”  
“It was – Yeah, it was pretty fun,” Evan says, going redder. Connor laughs and sits up so he can kiss him again. Evan’s fingers go straight to his hair, curl around the back of his neck and he sighs happily when Connor moves to trail kisses down his jawline.

Then his phone starts ringing. Connor sits back to tug it out of his pocket; it’s Zoe, and he’s missed three messages from her as well. Heidi’s going to be back soon as well and Connor doesn’t want Evan to be uncomfortable, so he stops, sends Zoe a quick _sorry, coming out now_.  
“I should go,” he says.  
“Prob’ly,” Evan agrees. Neither of them move.  
“I’ll see you on the weekend, though.”  
“So long,” Evan says.   
“I could see you before then.”  
“Yes please.”

Connor laughs. He shoves gently at Evan’s shoulders and Evan slides off him and Connor stands up.

“Thanks for the tree,” Evan says.  
“Yeah whatever,” Connor says. “Happy birthday.”

When he gets into the car, Zoe makes a face at him. "You're so  _obvious_ ," she complains.   
"Fuck you."  
"Fuck you. Did Evan have a good day, do you think?"  
"Yeah."  
"It was a good idea."  
"Yeah?"  
"Yeah."

* * *

 

  **From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

U GUYS ARE BLESSED

WE HAVE WIFI HERE

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Dammit

**From: Evan_Hansen**

Yay!

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

This is y evans my favourite

**From: Alana.Beck**

How’s it going Jared?

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Ok ok

My grampa gave me 20 dollars when he saw me 2 get a haircut

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Imagine what he’d do if he saw connor

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

He would die n then connor would have killed a man and all of u would owe me money

**From: Evan_Hansen**

Why are those two things related?

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Bc of that time I said if one of us was gonna kill some1 who would it b and u guys all said lana and I said connor and we bet on it and

Acc mayb that was a dream??

**From: Alana.Beck**

I wonder what it says about your subconscious that you dreamed something like that

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Nothing that we didn’t know before tbh

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

What r u guys all up 2 in my absence then?

Mourning me?

Building a shrine 4 me?

**From: Evan_Hansen**

You’re on holiday you’re not dead

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

But u would build me a shrine if I died??

**From: Evan_Hansen**

Well you made me swear to do it on my grandfather’s grave so…

**From: Alana.Beck**

What??

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Sorry what do you two do when we’re not around??

I thought Connor and Jared needed babysitting maybe we were wrong??

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

;)

Plans anyway?

Planz

**From: Alana.Beck**

Me and Zoe are going on a date tomorrow!

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

:D

We’re going to see a concert!

The San Francisco Symphony are in town

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Wow that sounds boring

I didn’t think anything could be more dull than evan and connor’s date where they watched documentaries

But I was wrong

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Fuck you we saw a video that showed the earth’s creation in 5 minutes it was really cool

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

… Evan?

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Fuck you

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Honestly im not surprised that ur a nerd

It’s chill w me I wont ruin ur street cred

Aah g2g were making a bonfire c u losers l8r 

* * *

 

Cynthia wakes him up to say goodbye before she and Larry leave. Connor doesn’t remember much of whatever conversation they had, mostly because it was six o’clock in the morning and it’s not fair that he’s been woken up that early twice in a month. He goes straight back to sleep until eleven and then when he goes downstairs, Zoe’s in the kitchen, still in her pyjamas, making a smoothie.

“We have bananas that need using,” she says, although Connor didn’t ask. He pours the rest of the coffee in the pot out into the biggest mug he can find and chugs it. She raises an eyebrow. “Sleep well?”  
“Slept better,” he says. Zoe makes a face, sympathetic. “Are you looking forward to your date?”  
“Yeah,” Zoe says, unplugging the blender. “No clue what to wear. I’m thinking the blue dress I wore to the fourth of July party last year?”

Connor pauses. He hadn’t thought about the forth of July party. He puts down his mug.

“Do you think they’ll make us go to that again?” he asks.   
“No idea,” Zoe says. “I hope not. But, I mean, we got out of the ski trip, out of the office Christmas party, out of three dinner parties, dad’s counting. So.”  
“Is that a _so_ we should be okay or _so_ we owe them?”  
“I don’t know myself,” Zoe admits. She sets her glass, now empty, down in the sink to rinse. “Alright, I’m going to shower. ‘Lana’s gonna be spending the night, by the way.”  
“Okay,” Connor says. “What time are you gonna be back?”  
“Dunno. Maybe one or two?”  
“I thought it was a classical music concert.”  
“It is,” Zoe says. “We might do shit afterwards, _some of us_ have lives, Murphy.”  
“It doesn’t work when we have the same last name,” Connor tells her. She flips him off.

He has a piece of toast and then he goes back to his bedroom. He can hear Zoe’s music in the bathroom. He picks his phone up from where he left it, charging on the desk.

**From: Evan Hansen**

Hey

**To: Evan Hansen**

hi?

**From: Evan Hansen**

Sorry that was weird

I just wanted to get your attention

That made it weirder???

**To: Evan Hansen**

You have my attention whats up

**From: Evan Hansen**

Want to come over and watch something later?

**To: Evan Hansen**

Yeah :)

I have to write some of my college essay

**From: Evan Hansen**

Oh okay!!!

What are you writing it on?

**To: Evan Hansen**

idk

**From: Evan Hansen**

So it’s going well, then?

**To: Evan Hansen**

Being sarcastic over text is kind of my thing Hansen get your own

**From: Evan Hansen**

:)

You can text or something when you’re done/tired and come round?

Unless you don’t want to or you get in a flow or something that’s fine we can do it some other time!!

**To: Evan Hansen**

Ok

Im ignoring that last message btw

**From: Evan Hansen**

It’s not ignoring it if you reply to it to tell me you’re ignoring it

**To: Evan Hansen**

>:|

**From: Evan Hansen**

:)

 

He’s got three drafts of beginnings of college essays. Dr West suggested he write about dealing with depression. That draft goes like:

I have depression.

 

So he probably won’t be finishing that one. He talked to Heidi about it once, when he was waiting for Evan or something, and she suggested writing it about a book he’d read, one that had meaning to him. That’s going the best so far – he chose _The Hobbit_ , but it’s kind of embarrassing because he wrote it when he was sleep-deprived so he didn’t really have a filter and then he went and got attached to it.

The third one is about someone he admires from his own experiences. He’s deleted about six different versions of this, because he can’t settle on someone he actually _admires._ He thinks most people would write about one of their parents but Connor’s relationship with his parents is only recently okay and even that’s pushing it with Larry. He’d thought about writing it about Zoe but he thinks that would just be depressing.

He’d thought about writing it about Alana or Evan. He does admire them actually, both of them, but it’s kind of hard to write five hundred odd words about why.

He goes back to _The Hobbit._ He has four hundred and fifty words on that, and he bangs out another seventy before Zoe comes into the room in the blue dress.  
“Heels or Converse?” she asks.  
“Heels, you’re going to see a symphony,” Connor tells her, turning back to his laptop.   
“What if I want to make a political statement?”  
“Bring a can of red paint,” he tells her, checking the word count. She comes to lean over the back of his chair so he slams the lid of his computer down.   
“What?”  
“Were you writing your essay?”  
“No. Yes.”  
“I haven’t started mine,” she admits. “’Lana’s getting on my back about it.”  
“Yeah well, Larry wants me to prove I’m serious about college,” Connor says. Zoe rolls her eyes.  
“That sounds about right.”  
“I’m gonna be at Evan’s when you get back, by the way.”  
“Oh,” Zoe says. She walks backwards to drop onto his bed to put her shoes on. “Is it ‘cos of me and ‘Lana because I don’t want you to feel like you can’t be here – ”  
“It’s not,” Connor says. “Well, it is, but it’s only because I don’t have a door.”

Zoe nods. “Okay, fair. When they get back, I’ll ask about it for you if you want?”  
“Whatever,” Connor says. He knows she’s trying to help but it’s still kind of – It makes him a little angry, that they’ll still only ever listen to her, even when it’s about him.

She stands back up and twirls. “Do I look okay?”  
“Yep.”  
“Yeah?”  
“You look nice, Zo.”  
“Thanks,” she says. She shoves him between the shoulderblades before leaving. “Have a shower before you visit Evan, yeah?”  
“Fuck you,” Connor tells her. He can hear her laughing all the way down the hall. 

* * *

 

**To: Evan Hansen**

I might not go to college can I live on your sofa?

**From: Evan Hansen**

Always

But you will go to college if you want to!

How’s the essay going?

**To: Evan Hansen**

:)

It’s not going

**From: Evan Hansen**

I don’t mind reading a draft of it if you want??

Obviously no pressure I get that it’s quite personal and you don’t have to send one over I just thought I’d offer

**To: Evan Hansen**

Um

Ok yeah maybe?

Don’t judge it’s really weird

**From: Evan Hansen**

I don’t judge!!

 

**To: evan_hansen@gmail.com**

**Subject: Awful terrible essay**

_Do you think if I filmed me burning this essay and sent that in they would accept it as a political statement?_

**Attachment:** college_essay_draft_2

He waits five minutes after he’s sent the email but Evan still hasn’t replied so he just goes and washes his hair for something to do. He’s really regretting sending the email when he gets back to his room. Maybe, in the future, Jared or somebody like him will invent technology to retrieve an email from someone’s inbox before they’ve read it. Connor would invest in that kind of invention. If he had any money, which he doesn’t.

**From: Evan Hansen**

That’s really really really good

You’re a really good writer

That’s a really good essay

I sent it back I made two corrections but they’re just a matter of opinion, like stylistic? So you can totally ignore them

But that’s really good!!!!

You should send it to Mr Cowell he did offer to help!!!

**To: Evan Hansen**

The words ‘really good’ are starting to look weird

**From: Evan Hansen**

I mean it!!!

**To: Evan Hansen**

Ok…

Thanks

Thanks for reading it as well

I’ll make the corrections and then I could come over??

**From: Evan Hansen**

Yes please!!! :D

* * *

 

 Evan lets him in with a tea towel in his hands.  
“Hey!” he says, leaning up to kiss Connor’s cheek. “I was washing up, do you want a drink or we have cake? Or – like, other food. Maybe.”  
“Water would be good,” Connor says, kicking the door shut behind him.  
“It is hot,” Evan agrees. He leads Connor into the kitchen to fill up a glass with tap water and then passes it over. Connor takes the tea towel away from him. “Oh, no – you don’t have to – ”  
“You wash, I’ll dry,” Connor says, firmly. Evan shoots him a smile.

They finish the washing up and then they put everything away, Evan directing Connor to cupboards when he doesn’t know where something goes, but that’s not often. It’s strange, realising that he knows where the mugs go and the glasses, in the cupboard above the sink, and the cutlery in the top drawer and the plates in the cupboard by the fridge. He’s spent a lot of time in the Hansens’ house in the last ten months.

“What shall we watch?” Evan asks, when they’ve sat down in front of the TV.   
“I don’t mind, you choose, it’s your house.”  
“You’re the guest.”  
“Your birthday was most recent.”

Evan squints at him. “That’s a stupid reason. Your birthday’s next.”  
“Alright, I’ll choose,” Connor says. Evan sits back, satisfied. “I choose that you choose.”  
“ _Connor_.”

Connor smiles at him. Evan rolls his eyes but he’s obviously trying to hold back laughter, so he can’t be too mad.

“I don’t know what you have,” Connor says. Evan wrinkles his nose.  
“Er. We have some old stuff on DVDs. We have Netflix? On my computer, this TV’s ancient.”  
“Netflix works.”  
“We can decide together on Netflix,” Evan says, so they go upstairs. Evan insists on rearranging his pillows so they can sit against the wall, even though it was totally fine before.

They decide on _Ratatouille,_ because Evan likes Disney films and Connor likes things that make Evan happy. He hasn’t seen this one before either, but it’s good, it’s nice and he likes the music. They watch it to the end of the credits, trying to pronounce the names in increasingly bad French accents.  
“You _did_ French, you have no excuse.”  
“I did _badly_ in French,” Connor corrects.  
“Why did you do it then?”

Connor can feel himself going red. Evan’s eyes get bigger, intrigued. “I’d just read _The Three Musketeers_ ,” Connor mumbles. Evan beams.   
“You’re a nerd,” he says, fondly.  
“I’m not,” Connor says.   
“You’re cooler than the rest of us,” Evan says. “Except Zoe.”  
“I’ll take that,” Connor says.  
“I really did like your essay,” Evan says. “I wasn’t just saying it.”  
“Thanks,” Connor says. “Your corrections were useful.”

Evan shrugs. He drags the mouse down the film list.

They start _Shrek_ and stop it halfway through to make dinner, which is just pasta and tomato sauce because it was all that was in the fridge. They eat it out of the saucepan, sat either side of the stove. Cynthia calls, to make sure he’s still alive, probably, so Connor stands on the back porch for ten minutes listening to her chatter on about the drive up to the inn and the amazing food they had for lunch and the carriage ride Larry booked for them after dinner.

When he goes back in, Evan’s already done the washing up and he’s sat up on the counter with his phone but he pockets it immediately as Connor shuts the back door behind him.

They go back upstairs and they get to the wedding in _Shrek_ before they get distracted again.

Connor lost his virginity when he was sixteen, in a car behind a 7/11, to one of Sam Taylor’s college friends. He doesn’t really remember it. He was completely out of his mind. He doesn’t really regret it – it didn’t change him, it didn’t really affect any other part of his life. He kinda wishes he’d known the guy’s name, but mostly he doesn’t think about it.

Then there’s Evan – funny, kind, nervous Evan with his eyes and his – hair and Connor thinks he’s beautiful.

Evan had closed the computer and slid it across the room and he got a bit embarrassed over his stomach and the bruises on his shins and the freckles up his arms and shoulders but Connor kissed the apologies out of his mouth because he’s _beautiful_ and what are bruises and freckles against lines and lines of scars but Evan told him to shut up and then, and then, and then.

They kiss lazily for a while afterwards, Connor moving his hand up Evan’s jawline, Evan combing his fingers through Connor’s hair and then Evan starts laughing against his mouth so Connor leans back.  
“What?”  
“I’m – sorry,” Evan says, still giggling. “I’m – I just, Jared’s gonna be – so angry – ”  
“You’re thinking about Kleinman right now, seriously?”  
“I’m sorry,” Evan says. He sobers up for all of about ten seconds before dissolving into laughter again – “Oh, Connor, I’m sorry, I’m – ”

Connor’s smiling at the sight of Evan’s shoulders shaking.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Evan says, pressing a hand to his mouth to try and smother his amusement. “I’m – I think I’m projecting.”  
“Okay,” Connor says. Evan looks desperately apologetic and shifts up to kiss him again. Then he snorts and rocks back, burying his head in his hands. Connor’s laughing as well now; somehow, that’s enough to get Evan to stop and kiss him again and it’s good and Connor feels impossibly, unbelievably safe and happy in his own body and.

He presses a kiss to Evan’s temple when Evan pulls away to check the time before settling back down against Connor’s chest. He traces gentle fingers along the scars on the insides of Connor’s arms.   
“I’m gonna write you a letter,” he says, softly. Connor huffs a laugh.  
“A letter?”  
“Yeah, like _Dear Connor Murphy_.”  
“You’re gonna write me a therapy letter?”  
“No, Connor, a normal letter, they did exist before I went to therapy, you know.”  
“Wow,” Connor says. Evan turns his head, smiling. “I like you a lot.”

Evan beams. “I like you a lot too.”  
“That’s nice.”  
“Cool.”  
"Cool."

Evan leans in to kiss him again. He slides one hand up around Connor's wrist, holds tight.

* * *

 

 Cynthia and Larry get back on Sunday night and they ask how Connor and Zoe’s weekend was. Zoe launches into an explanation of the symphony she went to see. Then they order Chinese and Zoe and Larry go to collect it and Connor hands over a copy of his personal essay.

Cynthia sits at the kitchen table with her reading glasses and a biro and mouths the words to herself as she reads. Connor stands in the kitchen, pretending not to care and wondering why he does. When she sits back, he goes to join her.   
“I think this is very good,” she says. “You’ve put a comma here, and I think you could split it into two sentences. Have you thought about sending it to your English – ”  
“Mom,” Connor says. “I’m gay.”

She blinks at him. Connor has a sudden image of her getting angry, which is strange because he didn’t think she would get angry until the words left his mouth but, _fuck,_ what if she tells _Larry_ –

“Okay,” she says. “Thank you for telling me.”  
“You’re not mad?”  
“Why would I be mad, Con? I’ve loved you since the day the doctor told me I was pregnant. Nothing’s gonna change that.”

Connor kind of thinks he might cry so he says,  
“I’m dating Evan. Evan Hansen. I’ve been dating him for a while.”  
“Okay,” Cynthia says. She leans forward. “Can I tell you a secret?”  
“Yeah?”  
“I wondered,” she says.  
“You – wondered?”  
“I just wondered. I didn’t know, but I just. Wondered.”

Connor stares at her. “You’ve known?”  
“Wondered.”  
“You’ve thought I might be gay and dating Evan for – ”  
“Since graduation,” Cynthia says.

Connor stares at her. “But you didn’t say anything.” A horrible thought occurs to him. “You didn’t say anything, right? Not to Larry?”  
“No, I haven’t spoken to your father about it for the same reason I didn’t say anything to you. I thought it was up to you when you told us. I hoped you would tell us, but I wanted to leave it to you, when you felt ready. I tried to drop some hints that I wouldn’t mind.”

Connor hugs her. She hugs him back, tight, one hand smoothing down his hair. There’s a lump in his throat and he doesn’t dare try and speak past it but he wants her to know anyway, how much – what it means.

“Don’t tell Larry,” he says, when his eyes have stopped burning.  
“I won’t,” she says. “But, Con, he won’t mind, he loves you.”

Connor probably looks as doubtful as he feels because her expression flickers but then the front door’s opening and Connor’s stood up to hide his personal essay and wipe furiously at his cheeks before his father comes in. 

* * *

 

“And she was totally okay with it?” Alana asks, wide eyed.  
“Yeah,” Connor says. “Totally, completely fine. She said she’d guessed since graduation.”  
“I’m not surprised,” Alana says. “You two were very obvious, making heart eyes at each other.”  
“Alright,” Connor says.

He’d told Zoe and she’d cried too, which had been kind of awkward. He doesn’t think she’s ready to come out yet, and that’s okay, and he’d told her that and she’d just cried more. He’s not great at comforting people, so he’d just patted her shoulder until she pulled him into a hug, and then he’d kind of floundered until she sat back, wiping her eyes to tell him he was shit, which was more normal territory that he could deal with.

He’d told Evan over the phone and it had sounded like he was getting teary but he’d insisted that he wasn’t.

“What about Larry?” Alana asks.  
“Nope,” Connor says. “He can never, ever know unless I decide we’re completely through, because that will do it.”  
“Are you sure?”  
“I don’t want to know for sure,” Connor says. Alana nods. “And we have to go to the Harrises stupid fourth of July party.”  
“Really?”  
“Yep.”  
“I have to go to our neighbours one,” Alana says. “They’re Republicans.”  
“Can you at least get really drunk?”  
“I’ll bring a hipflask,” Alana says. “Do you really, _really_ have to go?”  
“We tried to get out of it but mom’s pretty set on it and Larry’s like a wall. I’m trying to get my door back as a bartering tool.”  
“Good idea,” Alana says, approvingly. “Honestly, I think it’s bad parenting taking your door away.”  
“Tell them,” Connor says.  
“I will. I’ll write them a strongly worded letter.”   
“Yep, that would do it.”  
“I’ll write the letter, you key their cars.”  
“Who do you think I am?” Connor asks. Alana gives him a look, over the rim of her coffee cup.  
“I think you’ve definitely keyed someone’s car before because I saw you do it sophomore year.”

Connor makes a face

“Let me guess,” she says. “You were high?”  
“Probably, yeah.”

She looks disapproving but doesn't say anything, pulling out a notepad from her bag. "Right, so. You and Zoe are working on a video, right?"  
"Right, with Jared, about coming out."  
"And Evan is editing the script?"  
"Yeah."  
"And you'll send it to me for final approval because Jared  _will_ sneak memes in there."  
"Yep."

She makes a little mark in her notebook. Connor tilts his head to try and see but she tugs it away from him.

"And I have a few emails I want to forward to you," she says. "I was wondering if you think we should have some kind of pooling account? There are a few that I can't tell who to pass on to."  
"What's a pooling account?"  
"I don't know yet," Alana says. "It might be more trouble than it's worth."  
"Why don't you just forward it to all of us and we can discuss on the group who's going to deal with it, or if we're dealing with it together."  
"Did you just volunteer yourself for teamwork?"   
"Ha ha, so funny."  
"Okay," she says. "I'm not sure that's the most efficient use of our time and resources - "  
"What resources?"  
"But that's the best idea we have so far."  
"It's the only idea we have so far, except your one for a pooling account which seems to be a term you just made up."

Alana takes her glasses off to polish them. She puts them back on.

"You know what?" she says. "Sometimes you are so annoying."

He smiles at her.


	7. Summer, Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I admit to having some kind of update schedule and of course I cannot meet it as soon as I lay it out. I am so sorry about the delay on this one - it just wasn't working for a while, I hope it is now. More importantly - thank you so, so much, it means the world that you enjoy this fic. Most importantly - warnings for brief violence, mentions of suicide attempts and suicidal thoughts, panic attacks, mention of past drug use.

**To: Evan Hansen**

Tell me something cool about trees

**From: Evan Hansen**

Pine trees are the only species in the world that spreads their seeds in cones

And those cones also have genders

**To: Evan Hansen**

that’s pretty cool

**From: Evan Hansen**

Are you headed to the Harrises?

**To: Evan Hansen**

Yeah

In the car now

I know we said no suicide jokes but

Please kill me

**From: Evan Hansen**

Technically that’s not a suicide joke it’s a murder joke

But no I’d miss you

**To: Evan Hansen**

Pedantry?? Now??

**From: Evan Hansen**

Sorry

**To: Evan Hansen**

I was joking it made me laugh

But thn larry thought I was laughing at him its gonna be fun

**From: Evan Hansen**

Zoe’s there! And your mom – you know if there’s a problem you can get out

And if you want to call or text I’ll keep my phone by me

**To: Evan Hansen**

Thanks

 

Cynthia had said it would be a quick visit, that they had to show their faces, that it was tradition and maybe it would be fun. Zoe had said they could just sit on the step together and judge everyone, but none of that is particularly helpful when Larry pulls up outside the Harrises house.

The whole street looks like the set for a movie, probably a horror movie – the box hedges and the identical front doors, the white fences and the cut grass, the houses that are too big for the families that live in them. He feels too big in the Hansens’ home, too small in places like this, like he could just disappear through the floor.

The first panic attack he ever had, he had in the downstairs bathroom in the Harrises house, with Brian and his friends playing soccer in the garden.

Zoe presses her arm against his as they walk up the front path. When he glances down at her, she makes a face at him, wrinkling her nose and crossing her eyes. He tries to smile. She grins back.

Julie opens the door.   
“Hi, Mr and Mrs Murphy,” she says, stepping back to let them in.  
“Hi Julie,” Cynthia says. “How are you?  
“I’m good, thank you,” Julie says, politely.   
“Glad it’s the holidays?”  
“Oh, very,” Julie says, and the three of them laugh like it’s funny. Connor can _feel_ Zoe rolling her eyes. “Everyone’s in the garden, you’re welcome to just go on through.”  
“She’s like Barbie in real life,” Zoe whispers, as they follow her down the hall. Connor does smile at that.   
“Barbie with attitude problems.”  
“Barbie who’s addicted to Modafinil.”  
“Barbie who pushed Trina Delaware down the stairs because she made cheer captain instead of her.”  
“What the _fuck_ ,” Connor says.  
“Connor, language!” Cynthia snaps. She bumps cheeks with Mrs Harris as she comes bustling over from the barbeque. Larry goes off to join Mr Harris beside it. Zoe tugs Connor away from them, into the shade beneath one of the big trees at the edge of the garden. There’s an old rocker there, peeling white paint but, like, in a _rustic_ way – it’s been there since Connor was four. Zoe fell off it once when they were kids playing princess-and-the-dragon or something and lost both her front teeth, but they were milk teeth, wobbly anyway –

“On a scale of one to ten,” Zoe says, kicking her shoes off. “How much do you want to send a photo of this tree to Evan?”  
“Like, a thousand,” Connor drawls. Zoe laughs. “Did she seriously push Trina Delaware down the stairs?”  
“Do you know who Trina Delaware is?”  
“Uh,” Connor says. “No, but – I don’t have to? That’s – ”  
“Insane?” Zoe suggests. “Yeah.”  
“I thought _Brian_ was the bad one,” Connor says. Brian is nowhere to be seen. Maybe he’s managed to escape the party – it won’t be as bad, if he isn’t here.   
“They’re both bad,” Zoe says. “Brian’s like, thug idiot white het cis guy bad.”  
“You sound like Alana.”  
“She’s rubbing off on me,” Zoe says.

There’s a pause. Then Zoe twists round, pushing a hand through her hair –

_“Jared’s in my head_ ,” she whines.  
“I was about to say dirty,” Connor admits.   
“He can never know about this.”  
“He’d be unbearable.”  
“Insufferable. Unsufferable?”   
“Insufferable.”  
“Fucking walking dictionary,” Zoe says, but she’s beaming. “Hey, so it’s been – six minutes and this party hasn’t _totally_ sucked.”  
“Which is a first.”  
“Do you think we’ll still be friends with Jared next year?”  
“Yeah,” Connor says. “He’s like a limpet.”  
“I guess he and Evan have been friends for ever, and Evan isn’t going anywhere.”  
“Nor’s Alana,” Connor says, firmly. Zoe smiles, a little absently.  
“Well, she’s going to Princeton.”  
“Yeah, she’s going _places_. But, like, spiritually.”  
“But like, _spiritually_ ,” Zoe mimics. Connor rolls his eyes, stretches his legs out as far as they’ll go. Zoe copies. “Do you think we’re tall?”  
“Yeah, we’re definitely tall.”  
“Dad’s fault.”  
“Most things are.”  
“I can’t believe mom was so chill about you being gay,” Zoe says. “I mean – I thought she’d be the easier one to tell, but.”  
“There was a moment where I thought she was gonna throw me out or something.”  
“What, she got angry?”  
“No,” Connor says. “She was calm the whole time. But – I dunno, I just had this mental image of her telling me to get out. Like I was watching it happen to someone else, or – like, on a screen or something? And that was the outcome I was expecting all of a sudden.”

Zoe hums. She scuffs the sand with her feet.

“You’re really pessimistic, huh,” she says.

Connor doesn’t really think that needs an answer.

“Hey, at least we can eat meat at this thing,” Zoe says, after a while.   
“That’s true.”

Brian’s just come out of the house, in cargo shorts and a printed t-shirt, like Jared except – More of a dick.

“Damn,” Zoe mutters. “Thought he wasn’t here.”  
“Same,” Connor says.

Brian goes over to his dad and Larry, crowded by the barbeque. Larry claps him on the shoulder.

“Hey,” Zoe says, swinging herself round to sit cross-legged on the bench, facing Connor. “So I had an idea how we could do the next panel for the video?”  
“Okay.”  
“So we could transition with just a black screen, yeah? And then, doors opening – And then maybe we start using colour? I mean, I’m taking artistic licence with the script but, I don’t know, I thought it could look quite nice?”

Connor considers it. “How d’you mean, then we start using colour?”  
“I don’t know how to explain that one better,” she says.  
“Fuck off. I’m not colouring in, I’m not twelve.”  
“Why? Scared you’ll lose your street cred?”  
“I’ve already lost my street cred, spending time with you lot.”  
“Ouch,” she says. “Look, I can add the colour. I’ll do a mockup to show you what I mean.”  
“Okay,” he says. “I guess you have a better eye for that kind of thing anyway.”

She doesn’t say anything for a while, so he looks up to check she’s not mad. She’s grinning.  
“That was a compliment,” she says. He rolls his eyes. “Hey, you really have lost your street cred now.”  
“No way, you pass out on a park bench one time and you’ve got street cred for life.”

This time, when he looks up, she’s not smiling.

“You what?” she says.

Connor shuts up. There’s a thread pooling loose at the bottom of his shirt. He tugs at it to see if it will unravel, but he must pull too hard or something because it snaps off.

“You _what_?” she says again, softer. “You passed out on a bench?”  
“Yeah, once, it’s not a big deal.”  
“Yeah it is,” she says. “Fuck, I didn’t – I didn’t know.”  
“You wouldn’t have cared if you had,” he snaps, because he doesn’t want to talk about it, not now, in the Harrises back garden, not ever if he can help it.  
“Sorry,” she says. “I’m sorry.”  
“No, it’s. It’s not – I shouldn’t have, I didn’t mean that – I just, I don’t want to talk about it right now.”  
“Okay,” she says.

She scoots over to put her head on his shoulder and they just sit in silence for a bit, until she starts to wiggle.

“Dude, if you need the toilet – ”  
“I _really_ need the toilet – ” she says, bouncing up and into her shoes. “I chugged like, two diet Mountain Dews this morning – I was in a Lana mood, Del Rey, not Beck, I’ll be right back, okay. I can send mom over – ”  
“Go to the fucking toilet, Zoe,” he says. She salutes him with her middle finger and dashes off into the house.

Connor sits up so he can pull his phone out of his back pocket.

**To: Jared Kleinman**

Brian Harris stole your wardrobe

**From: Jared Kleinman**

Lol I just turned my phone back on were probs telepathetically connected

Also wtf?

**To: Jared Kleinman**

No we're not

Cargo shorts and a tshirt that’s like your uniform

**From: Jared Kleinman**

Yeah we r dont fite it

No????

**To: Jared Kleinman**

no

you were wearing that in january your legs went purple

**From: Jared Kleinman**

Ssssh

Yeah but I wear it BETTER

Even when my legs are purple

*especially?

 

“Why the long face, Murphy?”

Brian’s stood over him with two cans of Coke. He passes one over. Connor takes it, sets it down on the seat beside him. Brian’s probably shaken it up or something.

“What?” he asks, carefully.  
“Why the long face? Your boyfriend dump you or something?”  
“Excuse me?”  
“Your boyfriend,” Brian says. He makes a motion with his hand curled into a fist, up and down; Connor’s heart plummets. “Ethan? Guy in my class? Evan?”  
“What?”  
“You’re not fucking? ‘Cos you went to prom – ”  
“Fuck off,” Connor says, standing up.  
“Is that what he said?” Brian says. He grins like it’s funny, like they’re sharing a joke. Connor’s phone keeps vibrating in his hand – messages from Jared, maybe – “Jules thought he had the hots for your sister, so is it like, he settled for you? Or was it a two for one offer –?”

He doesn’t realise for a moment – he’s still stood there, staring at Brian Harris except then Brian Harris is reeling away from him, pressing one hand over his eye. Connor doesn’t remember hitting him but his hand is clenched into a fist at his side and shaking and then Brian snarls,  
“You’re a fucking freak, Murphy,” and punches Connor in the face.

Connor wasn’t expecting it – he catches up with himself as he hits the tree and his head cracks back which hurts more than the impact of Brian’s punch. There’s blood in his mouth and his mind is almost blank except for this weird whining noise and then someone puts their arms around Connor’s chest and drags him away.

Brian is shoving his dad away from him, wiping spit from off his chin. Larry’s hands are locked on Connor’s shoulders, digging in tight. There’s blood in Connor’s mouth. In the distance, from inside the house, they’re playing some old 80s pop song. In the doorway to the kitchen, Cynthia and Victoria Harris are stood with their hands over their mouths. Zoe is stood a little way away from them, staring at Connor. She doesn’t look scared, she just looks sad, but she should be, she should be, _Connor’s_ scared –

“What happened?” Larry says. His voice is tight with anger.

The world is shrinking very rapidly behind Connor’s eyes. He is suddenly, forcibly reminded of when he was fifteen, and he had to go up to Brian Harris after gym and _beg_ him not to tell his parents that he was gay. Brian had stared at him and Connor had had a panic attack in the bathroom before he went home because he was convinced – Every time the phone rang, he imagined Brian’s mom on the other end but Brian didn’t say anything and his parents didn’t find out even after half the school knew and eventually Connor realised he had enough blackmail material of his own to make sure Brian never told.

The silence stretches and then Brian’s straightening up and then Owen Harris says,  
“It’s not Bri’s fault your son is a psychopath.”

Larry’s mouth is open. He’s staring at Owen and then his eyes get flinty and – Connor has never seen his dad tower over anyone else like that.

“Don’t you _dare_ ,” he says, coldly, “talk about my son like that.”

The world doesn’t stop, doesn’t change, doesn’t shift on its axis but Larry has his hands tight on Connor’s shoulders, like he’s afraid Connor might bolt or fall if he lets go.

“Connor,” he says. “What happened?”

Connor stares at him. The words dissolve in his mouth.

Larry turns. “We’re leaving,” he says. Victoria is murmuring apologies. Cynthia holds out her hand for Zoe to take as Larry, still gripping tight to Connor’s shoulder, marches past. They get into the car. Larry puts the key in the ignition and backs down the drive. They don’t say anything. Zoe keeps sending Connor anxious looks but Connor is staring out the window at the houses flashing past – they’re all the same, white picket fences, a car parked in every driveway, two point five kids hiding behind every front door, probably. He thinks he might be disassociating except he’s very aware of where he is, the hum of the car engine and Larry’s hands tight around the steering wheel.

He parks.

No one gets out of the car.

“You shouldn’t have hit him,” Larry says. Connor swallows.   
“I know,” he says. His mouth is dry. The silence stretches. Then Larry says,  
“I should have hit Owen.”  
“Larry!” Cynthia says. Larry unplugs his seatbelt so he can twist round.  
“Did he hurt you?”  
“Brian?” The blood on Connor’s chin is drying and his knuckles are all scraped up but. “No.”

Larry nods, tightly.

He turns the ignition back on.  
“Where are we going?” Cynthia asks, quietly, as he pulls off the curb.  
“I haven’t decided,” Larry says. Connor wonders if he’s having some sort of breakdown of his own. There were clients at that party. “Where do you two want to go?”  
“Disneyland,” Zoe says, immediately. Larry chuckles. The weird, nervous tension that’s been hanging over them since they shut the doors eases a little. Connor unclenches his fists. He’s left crescent moons purpling on the skin of his palm.  
“Somewhere we can get back from today, please, Zo.”  
“A La Mode,” Zoe says. “What kind of fourth of July party doesn’t have ice cream?”  
“A La Mode,” Larry says. “God, we haven’t been there in years.”

They park outside and Cynthia kneels by Connor’s door to wet a tissue with a bottle of water she keeps in the car and scrub at the blood on his chin and neck. Larry and Zoe go inside together.

“Are you alright?” Cynthia asks, softly. Connor swallows, past the dryness in his throat. He shakes his head. “What do you want me to do?”

Connor wants to sleep. He wants to go back to yesterday and convince them that the Harrises were a bad idea. He wants to go back an hour and not hit Brian first.

“Um,” he says. His voice doesn’t sound right, quiet and hoarse. “I want to. My phone.”  
“Okay,” Cynthia says. She keeps hold of one of Connor’s hands as he takes his phone from his pocket. It takes two tries to unlock it because his hands are shaking.

**To: Evan Hansen**

Hi

**From: Evan Hansen**

Hi :)

**To: Evan Hansen**

Im really sorry

**From: Evan Hansen**

What?

**To: Evan Hansen**

I need to talk to oyu

**From: Evan Hansen**

Are you okay???

**To: Evan Hansen**

No

 

And then he starts crying. Cynthia climbs into the backseat with him, shuts the door behind her and pulls Connor’s head onto her shoulder. She rubs his back, presses kisses into his hair and says,  
“It’s okay Con, it’s okay,” until he’s cried himself out. He has two missed calls from Evan and he feels scraped out inside but a little better as well.

“Sorry,” he says.  
“You don’t have to be sorry, Con,” Cynthia says, like he hasn’t just ruined one of her favourite cardigans by sobbing into it in the middle of a car park, like he didn’t just fight one of her best friends’ sons, like he isn’t a horrible, awful fuck up. “Okay, here’s a plan. And if you don’t like any part of it, you just tell me and we can change it. We can go in there and sit down with your dad and your sister, and you don’t have to say anything, you can just have a glass of water and then we can go home and you can call Evan, or I can call Heidi, and you can go straight to bed and tomorrow morning I will give Dr West a ring and we’ll make an appointment for Monday. Does that sound okay?”

Connor nods.

They go in and Cynthia lets him sit in the back corner of the booth. Larry had gotten him mint chocolate, which is kind of weird because he remembered that it was Connor’s favourite. It’s melting in the tub but Connor manages two spoonfuls and the glass of water when the waitress brings it and then they go home and Cynthia calls Heidi because Connor can’t face talking on the phone.

He goes straight to bed and when he wakes up, Zoe and Evan are sat on the floor by his wardrobe, talking in whispers over Zoe’s laptop.

Connor watches them for a while without saying anything. Then Evan turns and sees him and smiles. He slides the laptop over to Zoe to shuffle across the room.  
“Hey,” he says, putting his chin on the mattress by Connor’s head. Connor smiles at him.  
“I’m going to - Get some milk,” Zoe announces. The floorboards on the stairs creak as she goes down them. Evan traces a finger around Connor’s mouth.   
“Hey,” Evan says again, softer. “Oh, Connor.”

Connor stares at him. He wants Evan to know how awful he feels but he can’t find the words. Evan screws his eyes shut and then opens them, leans in quick to press a kiss to Connor’s nose.

“It’s okay,” he says. He’s a mind-reader. “It’s okay. You know what? He probably deserved it. And everyone still loves you, okay?”  
“I shouldn’t have hit him,” Connor mumbles. Evan smooths Connor’s hair off his forehead.   
“No,” he agrees. “But it’s not the worst thing you could have done.”  
“I didn’t realise I was doing it,” Connor says, into his pillow. “It just happened.”

He closes his eyes and tears leak out from between his eyelashes. Evan catches them on the pads of his fingers, brushes them gently away.

“I hate my head,” Connor says. “I hate it, it’s too loud and I can’t – I can’t fix it, I can’t make it better.”  
“I know, Connor,” Evan says. He sounds sad and it’s Connor’s fault.   
“I’m scared,” Connor says. Evan says,  
“I know, Connor.”

Connor opens his eyes and Evan is crying too. He smiles at Connor when he sees him looking, wrinkles his nose and wipes his hands impatiently beneath his eyes. “Sorry,” he says. “I just. Uh. I hate it, that you go through this and I can’t do anything, oh Connor, you don’t – ”

He presses the heels of his hands against his eyes and then shakes his head and smiles determinedly. He reaches across the blanket to link his fingers with Connor’s and squeezes.

“It’s okay,” he says. “It’ll be okay.”  
“No I don’t think it will,” Connor says. Evan says,  
“I do. I know things, Murphy, don’t test me.”  
“Murphy,” Connor repeats. Evan huffs a laugh.   
“We’re all here for you,” he says. “And you told us. That’s so good. You wouldn’t have done that, last time, and that’s how I know it’ll be okay.”

Connor doesn’t say anything. Evan holds his hand until he falls asleep. 

* * *

 

**From: Alana Beck**

Hey

How are you feeling?

 

**From: Jared Kleinman**

Hey dude

Heard u beat up brian harris

U ok?

 

**To: Evan Hansen**

Tell me something cool about trees

**From: Evan Hansen**

About one third of the United States is covered in forest!!

**To: Evan Hansen**

That’s a lot

**From: Evan Hansen**

I know right??

 

 

**To: Alana Beck**

Better thank you

 

**To: Jared Kleinman**

Yeah :)

 

**From: Alana Beck**

Okay <3

If you want to talk, I’ll keep my phone with me <3

 

**From: Jared Kleinman**

Im glad dude

If u need 2 vent I am a good listener

U might not believe me but its true

* * *

 The next week is a write-off.

The old, bone-deep apathy returns with a vengeance, except it’s worse this time because Connor can remember what it was like to _want_ to do things. He picks at his food, sleeps too much in the day and lies awake at night. He spends hours one afternoon lying in bed replaying fifty two seconds of a song until he’s sure the sound of it has bled into his skin.

Evan spends as much time as he can with him, texts him constantly while he’s at work, even when Connor’s replies aren’t much more than a _yeah_ or _no_ , even when he stops replying altogether. Alana comes round most evenings – Zoe keeps her door open so he can hear them talking in her room, laughing over the quizzes in magazines, over the various group chats Zoe’s a part of, over the increasingly ridiculous rivalry Alana has with some guy on her internship programme. 

Jared comes back on Thursday and comes round on Friday morning. Connor’s awake – he’s been awake all night – and he sits against his pillows, watching Jared unload an insane amount of things from an insanely big backpack.

“What happened to Yoda?” Connor asks.  
“I outgrew him,” Jared says. Connor doesn’t buy this for a second. He stares at Jared until he relents – “Okay, not everything would fit.”  
“Why did you bring this much crap?”  
“Don’t be rude, Smurphy,” Jared says, reaching over to tap Connor’s nose. Connor stares at him.  
“Are you high?” he says, pitching his voice lower in case his mom is stood outside listening.

Jared looks at him over the rim of his glasses. “What do you think?”  
“At the minute I’m not sure.”

Jared rolls his eyes. He swings his legs up so he’s sitting cross-legged on the bed facing Connor.  
“Look, I did some Googling on the way home ‘cos I was sat in a car for like, four hours, it was awful and a lot of the websites said different stuff about what to do so I just brought – everything I could think of that might help distract you.”

Connor stares at him. Jared’s shoulders tighten.  
“What? I can go if you want to be –”  
“Thanks,” Connor says. It sounds a little clumsy but then Jared smiles.   
“S’no problem,” he says. “Right. I’ve got food, gummy worms and mini sausages because my mom gave them to me. They’re kosher sausages, by the way, so think of this as, like, cultural exchange. I’ve got games, Connect Four, Life – but that’s missing some of the pieces – we’ve got Trivial Pursuit, but that’s probably shit with two people, an _ancient_ Snakes and Ladders, dude, remind me to tell you my Evan story about this game, it’s hilarious. I’ve got my laptop, in case you want to work on You Will Be Found or some shit, I’ve got some DVDs – ”  
“Connect Four sounds okay,” Connor says. Jared nods and pushes everything else off the bed.

Jared insists that he has to take the red coins because they’re lucky, and so Connor takes the yellow ones. They play three rounds with Jared chattering away about his holiday – it’s kind of white noise because Connor’s not really up to following all the names, and why are two of Jared’s cousins called Josh, that seems unnecessarily confusing, but the company’s nice, and the game.

Zoe swings round the door frame halfway through the fourth round.   
“Hey,” she begins, but then she sees what they’re doing. “What the fuck?”  
“We’re playing Connect Four, Zo, don’t be a bitch,” Jared says. Zoe meets Connor’s eyes. She flicks her eyebrows up, like she’s asking him if he’s okay. It’s nice. He smiles at her.  
“Uh, okay, Jared,” she says. “Mom wants to know if you want to do something for lunch.”

Lunch is bagels, with cheese and salmon and a massive salad bowl. Jared and Zoe do all the talking; Connor picks at a bagel half until he feels slightly sick. He can see his mom itching to say something, do something – she’s got about as much practice at this as Connor. He never invited anyone round because he didn’t have anyone who’d want to. Zoe never invited anyone round because she was scared of what he would do.

He shreds the rest of the bagel into pieces small enough for bird food without realising.

“What do you want to do now?” Jared asks, when the plates are cleared and stacked. “Stay in? More Connect Four? I’m up for that, dude, I was winning, you’re _shit_ – Sorry, Mrs M. Or we could go out? Go for a drive, go see a movie, go plant a tree, whatever woodsy shit – sorry Mrs M – whatever woodsy stuff Evan’s got you onto.”  
“Uh,” Connor says. He doesn’t like that they’re all looking at him. All he can think is that he and Evan have never planted a tree. “I guess going out would be okay.”

Cynthia looks delighted.

He takes a shower and changes his clothes first, while Zoe and Jared watch an episode of Parks and Rec in her room. He actually feels a little bit better afterwards, less claustrophobic.

Zoe comes with them, buckled into the middle seat in the back. Jared lets her be in charge of the music – they go through Miley Cyrus and One Direction and when they’re on the highway, not going anywhere, just driving, fast, with the windows down so the wind whips at their faces and it’s louder than the noise in his head and it kind of feels like flying and for a while it’s okay and Connor joins in with Party in the USA and Die Young and I Will Always Love You and Jared pulls over for the last chorus so he can overact and not, like, kill them in a car crash.

“God,” he says, collapsing back in the seat as the song changes. “I’m really unfit.”

Connor huffs a laugh at him. He’s tired, but not in the same wrung-out way he’s felt the past few days.

“I want fries,” Zoe says. “And hummus.”  
“That’s disgusting,” Jared tells her.  
“ _That’s disgusting_ ,” she mimics. “Not together, idiot.”  
“I could eat fries,” Jared says. He puts the engine back on. “Let’s go to the mall. Hey, we can pick Hansen up from his shift, if that’s okay – Why am I even asking, fuck’s sake, you’re _so whipped_.”  
“That’s my brother,” Zoe says, mildly, but her grin is shit-eating in the wing mirror. Connor rolls his eyes and rolls the window back up so he can rest his head against it. He watches the cars flash past, and then the houses, and he thinks he might doze off at some point because he doesn’t remember approaching the mall, just sitting up as Jared parks.

“ – kind of a dick about it,” Jared is saying. Zoe hums.  
“Alana said the same thing, you should talk to her about it.”  
“Is that your way of telling me to shut the fuck up?” Jared asks, opening the door. Connor gets out too, stretching as big as he can.   
“No,” Zoe laughs. “You know what she’s like, she was telling me that she was freaked out about it and she kind of calmed herself down in the process, so – she’s been there and come out the other side, is what I’m saying.”  
“Fair,” Jared says. “I’ll message her later. You’re _freakishly_ tall, by the way.”  
“Fuck you,” Connor says. Jared jumps up to swing an arm around his shoulders.  
“And he’s back, ladies and gentleman.”

They go to McDonalds and Zoe and Jared get fries to share and Connor kind of wants a milkshake while they’re standing in the queue. They wander round the food court and then up the escalator to find a bench by Pottery Barn. There’s two little kids running round outside the H&M next door.

“You know what’s really cute?” Jared asks, round a mouthful. “Those tiny Converse they make for kids. They’re fucking adorable. I want kids just so I can make them wear them, all the time. Going to a wedding? Tiny Converse. Going to a – I dunno, where do kids go? Kindergartern. Boom. Tiny Converse.”  
“You’re gonna be a great dad,” Connor says, dryly. He can kind of see Evan through the glass pane in the wall of the Pottery Barn. He’s behind the counter and he’s wearing an apron.   
“Oh, and those hats with ears. Like, bear hats,” Jared says. “My kids are gonna be so fucking cute.”  
“Have you seriously thought about this?” Zoe asks. “Do you really want kids?”  
“Yeah, I guess,” Jared says. “In the future. As long as they’re cute.”  
“What if they’re not?”  
“Then I’m disowning them.”  
“What would you call them?”  
“Jared Junior and – I dunno.”  
“Luke and Leia,” Connor suggests. Jared rounds on him.  
“That’s a great idea!”  
“Don’t talk with your mouth full, I felt that, it’s fucking disgusting.”  
“There are kids round here, don’t swear,” Zoe says. “And don’t call your kids Luke and Leia.”  
“Lake and Loua?” Jared suggests.   
“That’s fucking stupid,” Connor says.  
“Have you got, like, a quota of expletives that you’ve got to meet per day?”  
“ _Quota of expletives_ , did you swallow a dictionary or something?”  
“Take the ‘tionary’ off that,” Jared says. Zoe shoves him.  
“ _Gross_.”  
“Homophobic.”

Evan’s come out behind the counter now, to get something down from a shelf for an old lady. He hands it over and waits beside her, smiling, as she says something. He has a really nice smile.

Jared leans in to see what Connor’s looking at. He snorts.   
“God, you’re so gay.”  
“You’re gay.”  
“You’re more gay.”  
“This is a stupid argument,” Zoe says. “I’m having the last one.”  
“Hey, I paid!”  
“It’s gone,” Zoe says, her mouth full. “Hey, can we pick ‘Lana up after this?”  
“Sure,” Jared says. “It’s gonna be a squeeze though, in my car.”  
“Told you we should have brought mine,” Zoe says.

Connor tunes them out. Evan’s serving the old lady at the counter, now he’s turning to say something to the girl next to him, now he’s disappearing into the back room. A few minutes later, he’s back, without the apron and with Connor’s hoodie. He walks straight through the shop, sidestepping a mom with a stroller and –

“Oh my God hi!”  
“Did anyone tell him we were coming?” Jared asks, belatedly. Evan hurries over to them. He hugs Connor first, tight, rocking up on tip-toe to press a kiss to his cheek and then he hugs Zoe and Jared and bounces away from them, back into Connor, tucking himself against his side.   
“Hi! What are you doing here?”  
“We were bored,” Jared says.   
“I wanted fries,” Zoe says. Evan beams at them and then up at Connor and Connor’s heart does the thing where it tries to escape through his throat.   
“I kind of missed you,” he says, when they’ve set off towards Jared’s car, the other two a little ahead. Evan flushes.  
“How are you feeling?”  
“A little bit better,” Connor says. “Okay.”  
“I’m glad,” Evan says, and he reaches down to take Connor’s hand between them and squeezes, tight.

* * *

 

 On Saturday, he goes to see Dr West. She asks him what he wants to talk about and he tells her about Jared coming over and Zoe sitting in the car with them and Evan and Alana and how he feels like he’s always waiting for the other shoe to drop, for someone to come in and take them all away from him. It’s kind of difficult to talk about, and they overrun a bit – it’s ten past the hour when he comes back out into the waiting room.

Cynthia drives home in silence, and she lets him go straight up to bed to try and get a few hours sleep, but she wakes him mid-afternoon so he can help her peel carrots for dinner. She wants to know how therapy went – he tells her, as much as he can manage.

“I was reading a book about it,” she says. “I thought maybe we could devise a system so we’re always on the same page?”  
“Like what?”  
“The book suggested a scale, one to ten. So if you’re ever feeling more anxious than a level five, you tell me, and we sort it out.”

Connor considers this. Peeling carrots is kind of therepuetic, the _snick-snick_ and the long trails of orange skin.

“I think that’s stupid.”

She sighs. “Why?”  
“Well, that’s completely subjective. How do I know _comparatively_ if I’m feeling a level five or a level eight? Also, I’m kind of constantly level five. If I told you every time I was feeling level five I would never stop.”

She frowns, picking up peel from the tablecloth. “Alright. Higher than a level seven?”  
“What is a level seven? What if my level sevens aren’t the same as your level sevens.”  
“It’s your level sevens we’re worried about,” she says. “At the Harrises. What was that?”  
“Before, it was – I dunno, maybe a six. But it got bad quickly, that’s the point. It gets bad without – I can’t – I don’t get a five minute warning, it just happens.”  
“What’s the worst you’ve ever felt?”

Easy.

He doesn’t even need to say it; Cynthia closes her eyes a moment. “That’s a level ten,” she says. “We’ll work backwards from that.”

She’s trying to help.   
“Okay,” he says.   
“Do you think that’s a good idea? I just want to –”  
“Yeah, it’s a good idea, mom. I’ll work on it.”

He thinks they’ve peeled most of the carrots in the country.

“I’d like to meet Evan,” she says. Connor almost drops the peeler.   
“ _Why_?”  
“Because he’s your boyfriend, Connor,” she says.   
“Um,” says Connor. “No.”  
“Yes,” she says, firmly. “We could all go for coffee, if you’re worried about your father.”  
“All?”  
“It might be nice if Heidi – ”  
“Oh my God.”  
“I think it’ll be fun,” she says, cheerily.   
“You and I have wildly different ideas of fun,” he says.   
“I’ll arrange it,” she says.

* * *

 

 He can’t sleep. The light through the curtains is orange from the street-lights outside. He keeps thinking, like his brain won’t turn off. Weird things, like – sixth grade, he thinks Alana might have been in his art class. He doesn’t know why, he just has this – like, recurring image of a little Alana in a purple dress coming to talk to him about his project and he’d just stared at her, and he keeps replaying it, this one tiny moment that might not have happened, and he keeps wondering why he didn’t say anything.

He gets up and goes downstairs to get a glass of water. He’s going back up when he sees the blue light from the TV set, still on, so he goes into the sitting room and –

“Connor,” Larry says. He fumbles for the remote. “Did I wake you?”  
“No,” Connor says. “I wasn’t asleep.”  
“Oh.”

They stare at each other. Connor can’t tell if it’s a good thing or not that Larry seems as uncomfortable as he is.

“You – uh, you worried about something?”  
“No,” Connor says. Larry’s hand tightens around the remote. “Um. What are you watching?”  
“The Great Escape,” Larry says. “Do you wanna –?”

No, Connor does not really want to sit down with him, but. But Larry had towered over Owen Harris, and he’d taken Connor’s side.

Connor sits, on the edge of the couch. Larry turns back to the TV set. He puts the volume up, a little.

They don’t talk, but they laugh at the same parts and it’s a good film, Connor hasn’t seen it in years, since he was a kid, probably, watching it with his dad for the first time.

He doesn’t remember the end – he doesn’t remember it in the morning, either. He doesn’t remember falling asleep, but he must have done, because he wakes up in his bed. He turns his face into his pillow for a moment and when he wakes up, it’s gone noon and he can hear Zoe singing in the shower across the hall. 

* * *

 

**From: Alana.Beck**

I got my roommate!!

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

What’s she like??

**From: Alana.Beck**

She seems nice! Her name is Josie, she’s half Cuban, she’s from Florida and she’s bi so I don’t have to worry about a homophobic roommate and we’ve already agreed on how to decorate!

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

She sounds great!

**From: Evan_Hansen**

Yeah I’m glad!

**From: Connor_Murphy**

same congrats

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

my roommates called chad so hes either gon be hot or a dick

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Or both

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

whatevs its just 1 guy n ive already made friends were gon join cosplay soc

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Why don’t you just get ‘virgin’ tattooed across your forehead?

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Ok but u never actually told me whether or not u sucked dick for meth soooo

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Is this a rumour you’ve heard or do you just think it’s funny

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

S T O P

**From: Evan_Hansen**

How much longer are you both here for?

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

only til august 10

**From: Alana.Beck**

I leave in 2 weeks!

Which means I would like to have the video finished by at least this time next week

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Sometimes i manage 2 forget bout the becktatorship

not gonna miss it

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Shut up Jared

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

We’re just finishing the last panels, we’ll probably have it done by the end of the week dw babe

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

do u guys think i should get tinder?

**From: Connor_Murphy**

no

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

What … is the link?

**From: Alana.Beck**

Why?

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Watching tv

2 meet men Alana what do u think

‘why’

Ffs

**From: Evan_Hansen**

:(

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

evan wants everyone 2 meet by ~fate~

guess what hansen every1 has the fairytale romance u and smurphy do

**From: Connor_Murphy**

fairytale?

he met me cos you called me a freak and i shoved him and he visited me in hospital after i tried to commit suicide

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

its like a john green novel

**From: Evan_Hansen**

If you want tinder you should get it

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Thnx bb

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Doesn’t anyone else want to go over to Jared’s and watch him set it up?

* * *

 

 “This is stupid,” Connor says.  
“Shut up,” Jared says. He’s lying across the floor, propped up on a pillow, choosing photos for his profile. “How about this one?”  
“That’s cute,” Zoe says. She’s lying across him, with a bag of Cheetos. Connor rolls his eyes and turns his head into Evan’s shoulder again, so he doesn’t have to watch. “What about this one?”  
“No,” Jared says. “I look drunk.”  
“You were drunk,” Evan says.  
“Is this a regular thing for you two?” Alana demands. “Getting drunk?”  
“Getting drunk is a regular thing for a lot of people,” Jared points out. “Okay, any more?”  
“I think you should put the one of you in the red jumper up,” Alana says. “It was cute.”  
“It was not cute,” Jared says. “My eyes are closed.”  
“Your eyes are closed in that one too, and you used that.”  
“Yeah, but my hair looks good. Okay, I’m putting it up.”

Connor sits back up. “What if someone from school sees you?”  
“So?” Jared says.

It’s a relief, when Connor catches Evan’s eye, to see that he doesn’t get that either.

“Anyway, I won’t use it until I get to college,” Jared says. “Unless they’re really hot.”  
“You’re very shallow,” Zoe says, amused.  
“I’m eighteen,” Jared says. He pushes himself up. “Now you’ve mentioned getting drunk I want a beer. Anyone else?”

He brings one back for all of them except Zoe, who’s driving. She shuffles backwards until she’s resting against Evan’s legs.  
“Did you see the catfishing documentary last night?”  
“Don’t talk about catfishing,” Jared says. “It’s my worst fear.”  
“My worst fear is loneliness,” Alana says, and that shuts them all up for a while.   
“Damn Alana,” Jared says, eventually. “You killed the mood.”

She grins and reaches up to clink her bottle against Connor’s.

“Do your parents just not care that you drink?” Zoe asks.   
“Not really,” Jared says. “As long as I’m careful. Hey, you can’t judge – your parents let Connor smoke.”  
“They don’t _let_ me,” Connor says.   
“I think you should quit,” Alana says. Connor frowns at her.  
“I’m kind of dealing with some other stuff right now.”  
“Don’t be flippant.”  
“He’s smoking less,” Evan says, pressing his shoulder against Connor’s. “That’s good enough right now.”  
“Thank you,” Connor says. Alana rolls her eyes.  
“This blatant favouritism is gross.”  
“You’re gross.”  
“Hey!” says Jared. “I got a match!”

He passes the phone round so they can all see the guy.

“I thought you said you weren’t gonna use it until college,” Connor says, passing it back.  
“Unless he’s hot.”  
“He wasn’t.”  
“You like Evan, you don’t get an opinion.”

Evan makes a little squeak of hurt and Zoe reaches out to kick Jared in the stomach. He doubles over.   
“I deserved that,” he wheezes.

* * *

 

 Evan comes round after work on Monday. Larry and Cynthia went to a client dinner so Evan can climb into bed beside Connor to watch a movie. He drifts off about half an hour in, his face soft and lax and pressed against Connor’s shoulder so Connor can feel the little puffs of his breath. He wasn’t really concentrating on the movie anyway, so he clicks off it and taps around on Google until he gets into a Buzzfeed spiral – what sort of holiday is he, what type of food, where should he next go on a city break, like he’s ever been on a city break before in the first place.

He keeps catching on the 4th July party, which is weird because he hasn’t really thought about it much since it happened, like his brain’s actually trying to do him a favour, it keeps skipping over the Brian part.

It keeps skipping now – he can’t quite remember what Brian actually said. Something about Zoe? Something about Evan? He remembers the wave of anger – it’s kind of weird that he’s _remembering_ it, didn’t it used to be a part of his daily routine? Wake up, get dressed, have breakfast, go to school and get high to deal with the burning in the pit of his stomach.

He types it into Google: _is it possible to get so angry you can’t remember things._

 There’s a page on rage blackouts, which Connor kind of thought was just something people joked about on comment boards. He goes onto it. There’s a link to a page on anger management –

And then Evan says,  
“Connor,” and reaches over to close the lid of his laptop. He sits up, rubbing his eyes. “What are you doing?”  
“Nothing,” Connor says, although he knows Evan saw. Evan’s doing the Bambi thing again, big eyes, kind of sad.   
“Anger management?” Evan says. He doesn’t move away. His knee is still pressed up against Connor’s and his hand is right there, on the pillow. Still, the words have frozen in Connor’s mouth. “Why are you looking up anger management?”  
“I wasn’t,” Connor says. “I was just.”  
“Do you think that’s something you need?”  
“I don’t know,” says Connor.

Evan waits, but Connor wants him to say something first because he thinks that if he starts, if he tells Evan about Brian and hitting Brian and not really remembering hitting Brian – Evan might leave, and that sets something sick and crawling off in his stomach.

“What do you mean?” Evan asks, eventually. He’s shifted so his hand is closer to Connor’s, there for Connor to take if he needs.   
“I don’t know,” says Connor, again. “I think. Um. Anger and – the other stuff, it was – it’s a symptom, it can be a symptom of depression. I think that’s what they think it is. So. I don’t know. I think they thought it would get better with the meds.”  
“Is it not?”  
“I don’t know.”  
“Okay,” Evan says, gently. His fingertips push gently against the side of Connor’s hand. “Why don’t we write it down?”  
“Write it down?”  
“What happened. What you remember happening, and then when you go see Dr West next, you can ask.”  
“I don’t want to.”  
“Why not?”

The words dry up. He doesn’t want to be _more_ sick, _more_ difficult to handle. He’s already too much.

Evan gets up. He has to climb over Connor off the bed, but then he holds out a hand for Connor to take and pulls him up too.   
“We’re going out,” he announces. Connor doesn’t really want to do that either but he lets Evan wrestle him into his hoodie and his shoes and push him out the front door without his car keys. “We’ll walk,” he says, when Connor points this out. “If you’re not feeling great, driving’s not a good idea anyway.”

He finds his headphones – bright blue, Connor wonders where he got them from – in the pocket of his khakis and plugs them into Connor’s phone so they can listen to music instead of talk. It’s a nice idea, except it doesn’t really work with the height difference so they stop on the curb outside a 7/11. Evan’s taste in music is remarkably similar to Zoe’s, when she drops the Top 40: acoustics, men who sound like they chainsmoke outside the studio and women with breathy voices. It’s nice, it’s gentle and Evan’s put his head against Connor’s shoulder to watch an empty can of coke roll around in the wind. It’s gone behind the wheels of a Range Rover when Evan says,  
“You know those drugstore slushies people used to be mad about in sixth grade?”  
“Yeah?” Connor says.   
“My mom never let me have them,” Evan says. “She said they were bad for your teeth.”  
“They were, to be fair,” Connor says. “My mom never let me have them either, so I went straight to the hard stuff.”

Evan laughs.

“Did you ever have braces?”  
“No,” Connor says. Evan pulls away, so quickly that Connor’s earbud falls out. Evan passes it back.  
“ _Seriously_? You have such nice – That’s unfair.”  
“Sorry,” Connor says, smiling.   
“I had to have them for two years,” Evan says. “Which I guess – It’s not bad compared to some people but I really hated them, I got so self-conscious, well, more self-conscious because I was convinced food would get stuck there, I just didn’t eat at school. So one day, I’d skipped breakfast for some reason, and then I didn’t eat lunch and I fainted in sixth period, they had to call my mom at the hospital. She got really mad. We had this long talk about it and then I went to see Dr Sherman.”  
“Oh,” says Connor. He hadn’t realised that he hadn’t known how Evan got diagnosed.   
“Yeah,” Evan says. “But before that, y’know. Everyone thought I was just – shy. Or, like, I remember a teacher in elementary telling my mom it was because I missed my dad.”

Connor doesn’t know what to say but Evan’s not looking at him – maybe he’s not supposed to say anything.

“What I’m getting at,” Evan continues, after a while. “Is – uh, diagnosis isn’t everything? Y’know, the problem can exist without someone telling you it does.”

Connor stays quiet for a while. The coke can has rolled back out from behind the car, is making its slow approach to the road.   
“That was sneaky,” he says. Evan laughs.   
“Sorry.”  
“It’s not a bad thing.”  
“Your head isn’t a bad thing either,” Evan says.

“It feels like it, sometimes. Most of the time.”  
“I know,” says Evan. He puts his head back on Connor’s shoulder and Connor puts his head on top and Evan reaches out to take his hand and squeezes.

“Hey,” says Connor. “Do you want to get a slushie?”

He can feel Evan grin.

They wander back. Evan got a blue one, and Connor got a red one, and they both gave each other exasperated looks when they realised. Evan’s headphones are slung around his neck but he forgot to turn his music off so it’s coming out through them anyway, kind of tinny.

“This would have been a pretty good date,” Evan says, stepping over a crack in the sidewalk. Connor sneaks a glance at him.   
“Would have been?”  
“Well, if I’d said it was a date earlier.”  
“We can lie when we tell the story.”  
“Are we gonna tell the story?”  
“If we tell the story, Jesus.”  
“Evan,” Evan says. He smirks round his straw which is a weird combination of endearing and sexy. Connor kicks at a lamppost as they pass it. He misses.

They’re approaching Connor’s house, and Larry’s car is in the driveway, so his parents are back.   
“Do you wanna come in?” Connor asks. Evan slurps up the rest of his drink and then frowns. “Brainfreeze?”  
“Stupid idea, ow,” Evan agrees. He rocks forward to press his head against Connor’s shoulder. “Do you want me to?”  
“What?”  
“Do you want me to come in?”  
“Yeah,” says Connor, and then thinks of Larry. “Uh, maybe it’s better if you don’t though.”  
“Okay,” Evan says. He straightens up.   
“I can give you a lift home.”  
“No, it’s okay, it’s not far.”  
“I'll walk with you then.”  
“You don’t have to.”  
“It’s okay.”

Evan gives him a look, kind of squinting. Then he smiles. “Okay.” 

* * *

 

**From: jared_kleinman@gmail.com**

**Attached: coming_out_mov**

this okay with you guys?

 

**From: Evan_Hansen**

It looks good :)

**From: Alana.Beck**

I like it!!!!

I like it a lot!!!

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Thanks guys ;)

No srsly jared it looks good!

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

cool cool

i'll upload it now then??

**From: Alana.Beck**

Yeah go ahead!

Do we want to plan our next project?

**From: Connor_Murphy**

no

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

I want to

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

no u dont u just want 2 get in lanas pants

**From: Connor_Murphy**

i will block you

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

no u wont

**From: Evan_Hansen**

What would we do if we did another project?

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Another video?

**From: Alana.Beck**

Is anyone else willing to talk about their story?

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Guess

**From: Alana.Beck**

Okay so Connor’s out

Zoe? Evan?

**From: Evan_Hansen**

Maybe

**From: Connor_Murphy**

He doesn’t want to

**From: Evan_Hansen**

Not really no I’m sorry

Maybe in the future but I don’t think my story’s very interesting or anything

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

I don’t really have a story

Unless you guys want to see a video about how to dye your hair or something

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

I always thought we should branch out

Become a makeup channel

Do vlogs

**From: Alana.Beck**

No.

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Oh she’s bringing out the big guns

The full stops n evrythng

**From: Connor_Murphy**

You just took out all the vowels what was the point in abbreviating?

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Evrythng isnt missing all the vowels

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Shut up jared

**From: Evan_Hansen**

Hey look

_Attached: screenshot_22_

They like the video!

**From: Connor_Murphy**

We literally put that up like 10 minutes ago

**From: Alana.Beck**

23 minutes ago actually

And it’s not that unusual – we have a lot of subscribers, people find what we do helpful

It makes them feel less alone.

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Good

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Look I know weve been avoiding this but

What r we doing when we go 2 college?

**From: Alana.Beck**

We’re continuing

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

That’s not realistic

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Yeah you’ll have a lot of work and we’ll be in different states and cities

**From: Evan_Hansen**

Do you want to stop?

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

I don’t want 2 I just think well end up stopping

I think we should prepare

**From: Alana.Beck**

I’m not giving up on this

I want to continue

It’s very important to me. It’s always going to be as much of a priority as you guys

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Yeah and us 3 will still be here for another year

We can always work on the group stuff with you guys when you come home

**From: Alana.Beck**

It will work out I promise

 

Connor reads it and doesn’t reply. He thinks people should stop promising things they have no way of following up on. 

* * *

 

Zoe swings into his room with her jacket on.  
“Hey,” she says. “Come into town with me?”  
“I’m busy,” he says. He’s not – well, he thought he might try and finish his personal essay, but he got distracted and all he’s done is add a space after the last full stop. Zoe looks unimpressed.  
“Sure,” she says. She tucks her hair behind her ear. “I’m gonna get them pierced.”  
“Your ears?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Where?”  
“I dunno. Where’d you get yours? Sylvia?”  
“Yep.”  
“That’s out, mom doesn’t know.”  
“So this is your act of teenage rebellion, huh?”  
“Worked for you.”

Connor gets up, closes his computer and reaches for his hoodie.

“I’ll drive,” he says.   
“No – ”  
“What if you faint, or get weak?”  
“Is that likely?”  
“I dunno.”  
“Okay, you drive, but this isn’t a precedent.”

Cynthia is in the back garden, so they sneak out, Zoe easing the front door shut. She climbs in shotgun and puts her feet up on the dashboard until Connor reaches over to swat them down as he pulls out of the driveway.  
“Does Alana know?”  
“Only you.”  
“I feel special.”

Zoe rolls her eyes. She tucks her legs up beneath her chin to fiddle at the cuff of her jeans.   
“Why’d you decide to get them done now?” Connor asks.   
“I dunno,” Zoe says. “Felt right.”  
“Felt right?”  
“Felt urgent. I wanted to actually do something. I always – I always feel like I’m running behind, y’know?”  
“Yeah?”  
“I guess it’s a younger sibling thing,” Zoe says. “I’ve got friends who say the same thing. Like, you experience everything first and I’m just left rushing to catch up. I say I wanna do stuff but I never actually do any of it.”  
“Sure you do.”  
“Not really. I want to apply to a conservatory, to study music? But – I’m still working on a personal essay, like. I need to tell them. I need to tell them about Alana as well.”  
“Why?”  
“You did.”  
“So? It’s kind of different.”  
“Not really. Alana’s going away. What if they ask why I want to visit her? I’m saving up, y’know, for gas and stuff.”  
“They won’t ask, they know you’re – ”  
“Friends? Exactly.” Zoe finishes. She drums out a beat on her knees and then leans forward to jam the radio on.

Connor doesn’t say anything until they’ve stopped at a red light. “Did you and mom have a fight or something?”  
“No,” she says.   
“Did someone say something to you?”  
“No,” she says. She turns her head to smile. “Not everything’s that dramatic.”  
“Okay, okay.”

They park outside a drug store that advertises ear piercings in the window. Connor turns the engine off.   
“Let’s get a coffee,” he says.

He gets a coffee; she gets a mocha, extra whip. They sit at the bench by the window and she drums her feet against the legs of her stool.   
“Do you ever wish we’d gone to camp?” she asks.   
“What a stupid question.”  
“I wish I’d gone to camp.”  
“You could go to camp.”  
“What camp?”  
“I dunno. A camp. A generic camp.”  
“I’m just bored,” she says. “You know?”  
“Yeah.”  
“I want to do something.”  
“Yeah.”  
“I want to feel like I’ve done something.”  
“Yeah.”  
“You’ve all graduated and I’ve still got another year at school. It’s weird to me. I feel like I should have left too – like, I’m gonna go in through the doors again and I’m gonna sit in home room and watch the clock and take exams and go to gym.”  
“You could not go to gym.”  
“You give bad advice,” she tells him. “What if ‘Lana meets someone more interesting?”  
“More interesting than you?”  
“Fuck off,” she says.

Connor can’t tell if this is a new thing, or if she’s always been like this, caught between the process of growing up and the finish line, not quite sure of herself.

He thinks it might be his fault.

“Don’t get a piercing,” he says. She swirls the cream around in her coffee with her straw. “There are other things you could do without getting in a fight with Larry.”  
“Yeah?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Like, get high?”  
“No!”

She laughs.

“Okay,” she says. “I won’t get the piercing.” 

* * *

 

He goes to stay at Evan’s the next time Heidi works an all-nighter. They heat up a frozen pizza and eat it on the back porch.

“My dad’s coming in October,” Evan says, picking cheese off his thumb.  
“Is that a bad thing?”  
“I don’t know yet. I think my mom’s worried about it.”   
“Why?”  
“They haven’t seen each other in years,” Evan says. He stretches his legs out. “I think she still loves him.”  
“Oh.”  
“Yeah. She’s never said anything. But she doesn’t date people? I think – I dunno, maybe that’s because of me, like she didn’t want to disrupt my life. She’s given up a lot for me.”  
“You know you’re not a burden, your mom loves you.”  
“She’s had to make a lot of sacrifices,” Evan says. “I’m not exactly easy to bring up.”  
“You’re definitely not as difficult as me,” Connor points out. Evan rolls his eyes.  
“Stop talking about yourself like that,” he says.  
“You can’t handle the truth,” Connor says.

Evan punches him, very gently, in the arm. “Shut _up_.”

Connor grins out at the garden, at Christopher the tree and everything inside him goes warm and soft. Evan says,  
“You have the nicest smile in the whole world.”  
“Fuck off,” Connor says, automatically. Evan laughs. “You’re so full of shit.”  
“I’m not. I like seeing you smile, you didn’t before.”  
“Fuck off,” Connor says, again, uncomfortable. “You know who has the nicest smile? Ryan Gosling.”  
“Ryan Gosling?” Evan says. He’s laughing again. “That’s a cop out.”  
“What?”  
“You just chose the most generically handsome guy you could think of.”  
“Uh, that’s not true.”  
“Yes it is,” Evan says, and kisses him.   
“Yes it is,” Connor admits, when they break apart. That makes Evan laugh again; he tucks himself under Connor’s arm and Connor can feel his shoulders shaking and his heart feels full and light enough to just float free of his body.

They go inside when it gets cold enough that Evan starts shivering. They make out on his bed for a while until his phone starts ringing – it’s Heidi, which is about as effective a mood-killer as anything, so then they just answer some of the You Will Be Found emails Alana had forwarded until Connor starts yawning. Evan switches into mother hen mode immediately; he lets Connor borrow a pair of pyjamas and, blushing furiously, gives him a toothbrush Heidi had bought for him.  
“She said – cos you stay over – So it’s yours.”  
“Oh,” says Connor. It’s green. “Thanks.”

They brush their teeth together, with Evan sat on the toilet seat lid with his legs crossed. He beams when Connor keeps the tap off.

“I can’t believe you never had braces,” he says, climbing into bed first. “It’s so unfair.”  
“Well, I had my hands full with mental issues, I guess dental problems would have been overkill.”  
“Sure,” Evan says. “It didn’t seem to bother anyone when they were creating me.”  
“Creating you,” Connor repeats. His eyes are still adjusting to the gloom but he’s pretty sure Evan’s grinning. He has a nice smile, nicer than Ryan Gosling’s. “Like Frankenstein’s monster?”  
“Exactly like that,” Evan agrees.   
“I knew you weren’t like other boys.”  
“No, I’m stitched together from parts of other boys,” Evan agrees.

Connor laughs and Evan does too, delighted.  
“That’s disgusting,” Connor says. “Can I kiss you?”  
“Yes please.”

Their noses bump which makes Connor laugh again, until his stomach hurts and he’s found Evan’s mouth.

Evan drifts off as the hands on his alarm clock tick over to half one. Connor lies awake. He watches the time change. He misses an hour between three and four, so he must go to sleep at some point, but then he wakes up, groggy and inexplicably anxious. The _tick-tick_ of the clock is deafening. Evan’s rolled further away at some point; his mouth is pressed against his forearm, slightly open. He has freckles across his nose from the sun – Connor tries to count them, twice, but he ends up with a different number the second time so he gives up.

“Hey,” he says. Evan doesn’t reply, just snuffles into his arm. “You know I couldn’t ever imagine myself eighteen. Apparently that’s a symptom of suicidal thoughts. You can’t imagine the future.” He waits. Evan’s breathing goes _in_ and _out_ and his eyes are closed. “Alana and Jared keep talking about college, their roommates and classes and. I can’t imagine getting there.” One of Evan’s fingers twitch against the blanket. “I don’t think I’m suicidal right now,” he says. “But I can’t – I dunno.”

It’s stupid, he’s talking to himself.

He rolls over, careful not to disturb Evan, to watch the dawn come in through the slats in Evan’s blind.

They went to Manhattan for a week in the summer four or five years ago. Connor remembers lying awake with the curtains open, just to watch the city. He can imagine himself there again – five years time, he’d like that. A bed that he could see out the window from, a view other than the house opposite with its neat rose bush outside the kitchen window and the wind chimes in the tree. He tries to stretch it out – cacti on the windowsill in the kitchen, because he could probably keep cacti alive. Probably. Maybe they could paint the walls – they could do it together, yellow, maybe, or blue. They’d have bookshelves in the sitting room. When Connor was younger, he used to want a library, shelves stacked high to the ceiling with a rolling ladder.

That would still be quite cool, actually.

They could go to museums. Evan likes museums – Connor wants to take him to the Natural History Museum in New York; he can imagine Evan’s face. It’s a nice thought – and that’s when he realises he’s planning his future with Evan.

He wonders how long he’s been in love with Evan Hansen. He thinks he should have been aware of it sooner.

Evan mumbles something in his sleep, turning his head – the pillow’s left a mark on his cheek, and his hair is rumpled on one side. 

He has eighteen freckles.

Connor falls asleep about the same time as he hears Heidi’s key turn in the lock downstairs. 

* * *

 

Evan doesn’t wake him up until lunchtime, which is nice of him. He eats with Evan and Heidi and Heidi brings up Cynthia’s terrible idea like it’s a good one. Connor feels weirdly nervous about talking to her – he thinks she might be able to sense that he’s in love with her son and what if she thinks he’s not good enough. He isn’t good enough. Maybe Heidi’s only tolerating their relationship while she thinks it’s not serious.

She goes upstairs to take a nap after lunch while they do the washing up – Evan washes, Connor dries. Evan doesn’t talk much, which is good because Connor’s too tired and his brain kind of feels like it’s shut down.

They go into the sitting room to watch a movie – Connor falls asleep against Evan’s shoulder with Evan combing gently through his hair. He wakes up at quarter to five because Cynthia’s called Heidi to check he’s okay.

“No it’s okay,” he tells them. “I can walk. The walk would be good actually.”  
“I can walk with you,” Evan says. He’s already tugging on his shoes. “At least part of the way?”  
“Are you sure, hon?” Heidi asks. Her hair is piled at the top of her head and she’s in sweats and a baggy t-shirt. She looks more exhausted than Connor does – he caught a glimpse of himself in the hall mirror, it wasn’t pretty.  
“Yeah,” he says. “Thank you though.”  
“It’s okay. Text Evan when you’re home safe.”

Evan walks further than halfway with him, hand in hand.   
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks. Connor nods.  
“Yeah,” he says. It’s Evan. “It’s just one of those days, I think.”  
“Okay,” Evan says. He leans in to kiss Connor’s cheek, which keeps enough distance between them. Connor smiles at him, to show he appreciates it. “Text me when you’re home.”

Connor doesn’t actually make it much further before he hears the car slow down beside him. He turns – he’s half-expecting it to be a year ago, for it to be Sam Taylor or one of his college friends, off to get high in the park and about to offer him a ride.

It’s Larry.

“Where’ve you been?” he asks, reaching over to open the door.  
“I can walk,” Connor says. Larry says,  
“Get in the car, Connor.”

Connor gets in the car.   
“I was at Evan’s,” he says.   
“Put your seatbelt on,” Larry says. Connor makes a show of rolling his eyes as he plugs it in. “I wasn’t attacking you, Connor, I was just asking.”  
“And I’m just telling, I was at Evan’s.”  
“Alright,” Larry says. Connor can see him rolling his eyes in the wing mirror. “Did you have fun?”  
“Sure.”  
“Sure?”  
“I’m not five, it wasn’t a fucking play-date.”  
“Don’t swear at me.”

Connor tugs at his seatbelt so he can slide down in his seat.

“I could have walked,” he says.  
“It’s about to rain.”  
“No it’s not.”  
“It was forecast to rain.”  
“Just because it was forecast, doesn’t mean –”  
“Connor,” Larry says, tiredly. “I have a headache. Can we do this later?”  
“You want to have this exact argument later?” Connor says. Larry’s mouth tightens. Connor itches at the back of his hand until they get home.

He goes straight up to his room, except Zoe’s music is too loud through the walls and he can’t get to sleep, so he crouches down by his bookshelf to try and find his copy of _The Little Prince_.

“Can I come in?” Larry says. Connor twists round.   
“I don’t have a door,” he says.  
“No, you don’t,” Larry agrees. He comes in anyway. “I’m sorry if you felt I was short with you, in the car.”  
“Whatever,” Connor says. Larry sighs.   
“I’ve been wanting to have a little talk with you, actually.”  
“Great.”  
“About the Harrises.”

Connor accidentally drops the stack of books he was holding.

“This isn’t really a great day to talk about that,” he says. He’s got two papercuts.   
“It’s never going to be a good day to talk about it,” he says. “I just want to know what Brian said to you.”  
“He just – I don’t know.”  
“He just you don’t know?”  
“No,” Connor says. He pushes _The Hobbit_ back onto the shelf. “I just don’t know. I don’t remember.”

He hears his bedsprings creak as Larry sits down. “What do you mean, you don’t remember?”  
“There’s not really another way of saying that.”  
“You can’t remember what he said to you? I find that quite hard – ”  
“Okay,” Connor says. “You don’t believe me, fine, what else is new. I’m telling you, I don’t remember what happened, he said something to me, I got angry and I hit him. I’m sorry I hit him, I know I shouldn’t have done it but I wasn’t exactly in control of myself when I did it. Ground me, whatever, just don’t make me apologise to him.”

There’s silence from Larry’s end of the room. Connor kind of wants to turn around to see what his face is doing, except he doesn’t want to know.

“I wasn’t going to make you apologise,” Larry says, eventually. “Actually, Owen has said that Brian extends his apology to you.”

Connor makes a face at the wall. “ _Extends_ his apologies, that’s fucking bullshit.”  
“Language, Connor.”  
“I’m just saying – Brian did not say that. Brian doesn’t know what those words mean, in that order.”

Larry makes a weird noise. If it was anyone else, Connor would think he had stifled a laugh.

“Is it,” he says, carefully. “Is it normal? That you don’t remember?”  
“No,” Connor says. “Nothing about me is normal, remember?”  
“I don’t think that.”  
“Really?” Connor says. It settles, cold and heavy, in the pit of his stomach, like it always does. Larry breathes out, hard.   
“Really.”  
“Okay,” Connor says. _Oh-kay._

He hears the bed-springs creak again, and then he knows Larry’s left.

* * *

 

**From: Alana Beck**

I think you’re overthinking this

**To: Alana Beck**

>:(

**From: Alana Beck**

How old are you?

It’s going to be fine! You and your mom are on good terms now, you and Evan are fine and you get along great with Heidi!

**To: Alana Beck**

Your logic isn’t helping

**From: Alana Beck**

I don’t really know what else you want me to do

**To: Alana Beck**

idk

stop it from happening?

**From: Alana Beck**

You see how you’re being ridiculous right?

**From: Evan Hansen**

Sorry we’re running late

We just parked we’ll be there in 2 minutes!

 

“Evan says they’re running late,” Connor says. Cynthia clicks her phone off, pushing her reading glasses up onto her head.  
“Hmm?”  
“Evan says they’re running late.”  
“That’s alright,” Cynthia says. “Tell him that’s alright, he doesn’t need to worry.”

 

**To: Evan Hansen**

Don’t worry :)

 

“Did you tell him?”  
“Yes, jeez.”  
“What did you say he wanted to study at college?”  
“Biology or something.”  
“You don’t know?”  
“No, that’s what he wants to study. Biology, or something like it.”

He thinks his mom is more worried about impressing Evan than Evan is about impressing her, which is kind of nice and kind of impressive because Evan’s really freaked out.

 

**From: Zoe**

Good luck!

 

“There they are,” Cynthia says. She rises to meet them, bumps her cheek against Heidi’s. Evan sinks into the chair next to Connor’s. He’s kind of sweaty.   
“Sorry,” he whispers. “I got – There was traffic.”  
“Are you okay?”  
“Yeah, just. Y’know.”  
“It’s okay, she really likes you. She’s freaked out about impressing you.”

Evan looks disbelieving.

It’s not as bad as Connor had expected. Evan and Cynthia talk about college for a while, then Cynthia gets Heidi talking about night-school and her work at the hospital. Connor doesn’t have to say much at all. He answers Heidi’s questions about the courses he’s taking at the local college, and the places he wants to apply next year; he fields Cynthia’s interrogation about Evan’s interests when Evan’s leg starts jumping beneath the table.

Apart from that, it’s fine. He doesn’t convince himself Heidi hates him. Evan admits the same thing about Cynthia in the whispered conversation they have as they get up to leave.  
“Of course she doesn’t,” Connor says.   
“Easy for you to say,” Evan says. “You’re charming.”

Connor snorts, which makes them all look at him.

“I really admire you,” Cynthia says, as they leave the café, “bringing Evan up and working full-time as well.”  
“It was hard,” Heidi says. “But I don’t regret a moment of it. Bringing them up is the best thing in the world.”

Connor elbows Evan, like _see_. Evan elbows him back, which probably means _shut up._

“I’ve been thinking about going back to work,” Cynthia says. “Now that Connor’s graduated and Zoe’s about to. It might be nice, to have something to do when they’re both at college.”  
“What area would you go into?” Heidi asks. Connor hadn’t realised his mom was even considering that – he doesn’t immediately realise Evan has grabbed his arm to slow him down.

“Sorry, what?” he says, when he does.   
“I’m going to the toilet,” Evan says. “Can you wait?”  
“Yeah, sure, sorry.”

Cynthia and Heidi have stopped a little way ahead anyway, still talking, probably to wait for them. Connor bounces on his heels and then he catches sight of the advert in the shopfront next to him. He has five dollars in his pocket – he goes in. 

* * *

 

He knocks on Zoe’s door later, before dinner.   
“Come in,” she calls.

She’s cross-legged beside her bed, her back to the frame, her laptop balanced on her knees. She tugs out her earbuds when she sees him.  
“What’s up? How did it go? Your double date.”  
“Don’t call it that, and it was okay. I got you this.”

He throws it at her, because he doesn’t really know what else to do. Coming further into her room to give it to her is making too big a deal out of it.

She catches it – the little paper bag it came in. “What’s this?”  
“It’s an ear cuff,” he says. She blinks. “It’s – It looks like a cartilage piercing but it’s not. So, you won’t fight with Larry but you get the same effect. You know.”  
“Oh,” she says, beaming. She slides it out of the bag. “Thanks.”  
“No problem,” he say. “Okay, bye.”

He goes downstairs so he can pretend he didn’t hear her calling after him. Cynthia is sat at the kitchen table with her laptop.  
“Hey,” she says, as he comes in. “You okay?”  
“I didn’t know you were thinking of going back to work.”  
“Oh, it’s just something I’ve been toying with.”  
“Have you told Larry?”  
“We’ve discussed it.”  
“What would you do?”  
“I don’t know,” she says. “I’m not sure there are many people willing to employ someone who’s been out of the game so long.”  
“Yeah there would be,” Connor says, a little defensive on her behalf. She smiles.   
“You think I should?”  
“I guess. If you want to.”

She goes back to her emails, still smiling.

“Mom?”  
“Yes?”  
“Have you seen my copy of _The Little Prince_?”  
“ _The Little Prince?”_ she repeats. She doesn’t go any further, frowning at the screen. Then she takes her glasses off. “The book, you mean?”  
“Yeah.”  
“I don’t think so, no. Were you reading it? I just put some books that were on the table in your father’s office.”  
“Oh.”  
“You can go in and have a look, he won’t mind.”

Actually, Larry had made it clear at several different points in Connor’s childhood that he did not want him or Zoe in his office. Games of hide and seek had ended in them being grounded for a disproportionate length of time because they had hidden beneath his desk or behind the door while he was working.

Cynthia laughs at his expression. “Connor, you’re eighteen. He won’t mind if you go in to look for a book.”

_The Little Prince_ is not on the bookshelf. There is, however, a copy of _Game of Thrones_ , which is kind of weird because Connor had not had Larry pegged as a fan.

More bizarrely, there is a copy of _Depression for Dummies_ , which is bristling with Post-Its. Connor has his hand on the spine before he realises he doesn’t want to know. Maybe Larry’s reading it; maybe Cynthia is. Maybe they’re trying to understand; maybe they’re dissecting it, comparing his experience to the one in the book.

He takes _Game of Thrones_ and turns the light out behind him.


	8. Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is the penultimate chapter. Approaching the end I want to say how much this story means to me and how much I value your response to it - thank you will never be enough but thank you!!! There are warnings in this chapter for depression, mentions of parental neglect, drug abuse, mention of suicide and suicidal thoughts. This is a slightly shorter chapter - the next one will be longer to make up for it - and I think it is also a little bit darker - please pay attention to the warnings and be safe! Having said that - this story will absolutely have a happy ending! Thank you so much again and I hope you enjoy.

Alana and Jared leave within a few days of each other at the end of August, to unpack and get settled in for orientation. Zoe mopes around the house for a week after; she goes through a bag of popcorn while marathoning _Friends_ reruns and sneaks into Connor’s room to steal back the bottle of black nail polish he stole from her a few months back.

“Don’t you think that’s a little bit clichéd?” Connor asks her, when he realises. She’s sat on the couch with a bag of Doritos open beside her. “Wearing black nail polish because your girlfriend’s gone away?”  
“Fuck off,” she snaps. “Don’t you think it’s a little bit clichéd, wearing black nail polish at all? Black as your soul or some shit?”  
“Fair.”  
“It’s on the dresser in my room, if you need it,” she says, rolling onto her side and squashing the bag of Doritos. She makes a half-hearted attempt to tug them out from beneath her, gives up.  
“You guys talk every day,” he tries. She sighs into the cushion.  
“I miss her.”  
“It won’t be long before she’s back.”  
“Whatever,” she says. “Don’t try and comfort me, I want to wallow.”  
“Okay,” he says. He pats her ankle and leaves her be.

Alana Skypes him that evening, while he’s trying to reword his personal essay to send a final draft to Mr Cowell.

“Hey!” she says, when he answers. The connection’s grainy – she’s frozen, now she’s back, in a Princeton sweatshirt. “Long time no see.”  
“How are you?”  
“I’m great, this place is amazing, I’ve met so many nice people and I signed up to volunteer at the writing centre and I’ve also hunted out a good therapist nearby, just in case you know. How are you? How’s Evan?”  
“That sounds – ” Fun? “Nice. Um. Yeah, we’re both – good.”

The connection freezes again; when it stabilises, she’s moved closer to the camera, frowning.  
“Are you okay?”  
“Yeah, I’m fine, just – tired, you got me at a bad time.”  
“Oh, I’m sorry! I can call you back?”  
“No – ” He kind of wants to hang up and start again. “Sorry. Uh. Zoe misses you.”  
“I miss her,” Alana says. “ _So much_. There was a girl in the queue in front of me for coffee this morning – I swear I thought it was her, I was about to say something but then I realised it couldn’t be her, but. Hey, she said she’d come visit in December.”  
“Yeah?”   
“That would be nice. You guys are welcome anytime, you know that, right?”  
“Yeah,” Connor says. He drags his mouse around the screen for something to do. He wishes she would stop frowning.   
“Jared called me,” she says. “Yesterday evening.”  
“Oh yeah?”  
“Yeah, he’s having fun, he was checking up on me. That’s sweet, isn’t it?”  
“Yeah.”  
“I think he’s homesick.”  
“He’s coming back this weekend,” Connor says, unsympathetically. Alana rolls her eyes. The screen freezes again; it’s almost enough to make him laugh, and he’s smiling when it catches up.   
“Hey!” she says, delighted. “That’s a smile!”  
“Fuck off ‘Lana, you sound like my mother.”

Alana laughs. “Hey, I went to my first college party yesterday.”  
“What was it like?”  
“Uh,” she says, grinning. “Not my kind of scene? I’ve been invited to a silent disco as well.”  
“A silent disco?”  
“I don’t know, I think you wear headphones.”  
“That’s –”  
“Weird?”  
“Yeah. Are you gonna go?”  
“I don’t think so,” she admits. “The party was enough for me for the week. I’ve got some people in a study group who I think have potential to be friends.”  
“Don’t say that to them.”  
“What?”  
“Like, you have the potential to be my friend. That’s weird.”  
“I obviously wasn’t going to say that to them.”  
“ _Obviously_ ,” Connor repeats. She ducks her head.  
“Okay, maybe I would have done something like that in the past. _Maybe_. But I wouldn’t do that now, I can be cool.”

He does laugh at that. She rolls her eyes again, mock-offended.

“I can _pretend_ to be cool, happy now, you dick?”  
“Ecstatic.”  
“Big word for someone who almost failed ninth grade.”  
“Damn ‘Lana, twist the knife why don’t you?”  
“Too far?” she says, but she can’t think he’s mad because they’re both still smiling. Then there’s a knock on the wall and Zoe comes in, in pyjama shorts with her hair up in a towel.   
“You rang _Connor_ and not me?” she demands. Alana holds her hands up.   
“I rang you first babe, you didn’t pick up.”  
“Nice, so I’m second choice.”  
“Jesus,” Alana says. “I’ll conference call both of you next time alright?”  
“I was in the shower,” Zoe says. “I just thought I heard your voice.”  
“Gross,” Connor mutters. Zoe flicks the back of his head.   
“Call me when you’re done with him,” she says, and leans in close to the webcam to blow Alana a kiss. When she steps back, Alana looks disgustingly besotted. Connor makes a face.  
“Can you not do that in front of me?”  
“Please, if I have to deal with you and Evan being gooey all over the place, you can deal with that.”  
“Gooey?” Alana repeats. Connor scowls.  
“I am not _gooey_.”  
“Okay,” Zoe calls, already halfway out the room.   
“Gooey?”  
“Fuck off, ‘Lana,” Connor tells her. She smirks. “So, uh, have you chosen courses yet?”

She beams, and launches into a five minute explanation of what courses she’s picked for the semester, the professors she’s looking forward to and the one she’s wary of. Connor’s content to listen, ask questions here and there.

“What about you?” she asks, when she’s done. “Have you decided on any colleges yet?”  
“Yeah,” Connor says. He’s done research, Cynthia’s done research, _Larry_ ’s done research – most bizarrely, he received an email from his eighty year old grandmother asking him if he’d considered doing an art foundation course. He hadn’t realised his grandma knew – anything about him, really, because Larry does most of the communicating with that side of the family. “I think – ugh, I think the one I like the most is the one my parents went to.”

There’s a pause and then she starts laughing, her hands pressed over her mouth. Connor sighs. It’s the reaction he had been expecting. Evan, at least, had only kind of smiled, a tiny twitch in the corner of his mouth as he pressed Connor for details.

“I’m – I’m sorry,” she says, gasping. “I’m sorry – no, really, it’s not funny, it’s just because, you know, you and Larry but – no, it has nothing to do with them, if you like the place that’s _great_.” He can hear her tapping at her keyboard in the background – she’s probably looking the place up, the sort of grades they look for, the type of courses that come recommended, if there are any notable professors. “Oh, hey, nice campus.”  
“Yeah.”  
“And it’s close to home.”  
“Yeah.”  
“That’d be nice, for Evan and your mom. And it’d be nice if you didn’t have to change therapists.”  
“Yeah.”

She looks back up over her glasses. “No, really, Connor, that’s great. Have you sent your personal statement back to Mr Cowell?”  
“Alana, stop lecturing me, I’ve got everything under control.”  
“Sorry,” she says. The screen freezes as she moves to scratch her cheek. “It’s just – habit.”  
“I’m fine, really.”  
“You’re far away.”  
“Alana, really.”  
“I just want you to know I’m never gonna be too busy for you.”  
“You don’t have to take care of me.”

They had this argument the day before she left.

“I know I don’t _have_ to. You’re my best friend, I _want_ to.”

Connor shifts the pencil to his left half an inch for something to do.

“Okay,” he says, when it’s clear she’s waiting for something. “Sorry. Thanks.”

She smiles but her eyes are still pinched, concerned.

“You should call Zo,” he says. “She’ll come back in otherwise.”

Alana’s smile gets bigger, more genuine at that. “Alright,” she says. “I’ll call you later in the week, okay?”  
“Okay.”  
“Is phone better than Skype?”  
“Uh, I don’t know.” It seems like something he should know. He might ask Evan. “Just – text me first, whatever’s easier. It’s fine.”  
“Okay,” she says. “Bye. Love you. Bye.”  
“Yeah, bye.”

He hangs up before it gets awkward. Half a minute later, he hears Zoe -   
_“Hi!”_ from her room, so. Maybe that wasn’t as awful as he thought.

* * *

 

 He brings up the job application to Dr West before he tells his mom. She thinks it’s a great idea, that the routine will help him feel more stable which – he kind of gets. He’s almost beginning to miss school, just because it gave him something to do when he woke up. The way the days are beginning to stretch, yawning out before him while Alana and Jared are at college, Zoe’s at school and Evan’s at work – It makes him feel weird, displaced, the only one not doing anything.

The bookshop in the mall put up an ad for booksellers last week; Connor took the number down when he went to pick Evan up from Pottery Barn. He spends a day on his resume with Cynthia – she makes him send it to Larry because apparently he has more experience with that sort of thing, though Connor thinks that’s bullshit. Larry’s had the same job since before Connor was born, same office, same secretary, same parking space. The closest either Connor or Zoe have gotten to a _job_ is the month Zoe spent as a camp counsellor last summer. Connor’s best claim is that he used to mow their neighbour’s lawn, every weekend for four years until she moved into a retirement home.

Larry makes a few adjustments. Connor points out that none of them are true: he _mowed a lawn,_ he wasn’t her secretary. Larry points out that the bookshop have no way of proving this, because Mrs Adler died a few months ago.

Connor hadn’t known that.

He also adds in the summer Connor spent interning at Larry’s office, which is a period of time Connor tries to forget.   
“It looks like good experience though, Con,” Cynthia says, peaceably. “It shows you’re good at – sorting things.”

Which is rubbish, but if he doesn’t leave it in his resume is embarrassingly short.

He sends it off with a weird, heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach which he remembers from a Maths exam three years ago that he got an F in, so. He’s probably not going to get that job.

“But that’s alright,” Cynthia says, gently. “You’ve applied. That’s a good start.”

Connor doesn’t really know how to say how tired he is of making _starts_ when he’s already so far behind everyone else.

“Sure,” he says.  
“And maybe you’ll get it. You’ve read a lot.”  
“Right.”  
“And you’ll be local, they’ll like that.”  
“Okay,” he says. “Can we stop talking about it now?”  
“Did you talk about it with Evan?”  
“ _Mom_.”  
“Sorry!” she says. “I just wanted to know if it was something I could mention to Heidi.”  
“It’s weird that you have things you mention to Heidi at all,” Connor snaps. Cynthia thins her mouth, unimpressed.  
“She and I get along very well.”  
“Uh, okay.”  
“She was telling me that Evan likes his job.”  
“Oh my God.”  
“I’m just saying!”   
“Well stop.”

She does, but only for a moment – “Why don’t you want me talking about it?”  
“I just don’t.”  
“I’m just trying to be supportive.”

That makes him feel bad, and the little spike of irritation in his stomach curls up like smoke.

 “Sorry,” he says. It doesn’t come out like an apology; it sounds clumsy and bad-tempered but Cynthia pats his shoulder as she stands up.  
“Alright, Con.”

* * *

 

  **From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

wat r u losers up 2 wo me n lana?

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

That might be your least understandable message yet

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Sitting round n missing us?

I hear u

**From: Connor_Murphy**

No one has ever done that

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Damn smurphy whats got u all worked up

**From: Evan_Hansen**

Don’t be a dick Jared!

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

“Hi Jared hows college going jared”

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Hi jared hows college going jared?

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

GLAD U ASKED MY FAV MEMBER OF GROUP

I have a date

Tonight

**From: Evan_Hansen**

That’s exciting!!!!!! With who?

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

A guy in a lecture

I matched w him on tinder the nite before the 1st class and we recognised each other

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Romance in the technological age

Is he hot?

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

_Attached: leowithabeard_

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Imagine u can hear me wolf whistling

**From: Connor_Murphy**

“imagine” means you don’t have to do it in the next room

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Ikr??

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

What are you going to wear Jared?

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

:) 

* * *

 

“I don’t think this is necessary,” Connor says, for the sixth time. He’s counted because he doesn’t have anything better to do – Zoe’s pinned him between the wall and her bony shoulder, balanced her laptop on her knees so Jared can kind of see both of them through the webcam.   
“Shut up,” Jared says, striking a pose. “What about this and the other pants?”  
“I preferred the red flannel,” Evan says.

Connor tries to surreptitiously take a photo to send to Alana, kind of as a threat to show her what happens when she doesn’t pick up her phone, kind of because he thinks it will make her laugh.

“Red flannel, black jeans,” Zoe says. “It’s a classic statement look, I’m _telling_ you.”  
“Don’t you think it makes me look a little bit like a lumberjack?”  
“No,” Connor says. “Because you have no muscle. Less than no muscle.”  
“That’s physically impossible,” Jared sing-songs. “And don’t laugh Hansen, I can hear you.”  
“It was a cough,” Evan says, unconvincingly.   
“Sure. Okay, what shoes?”  
“Converse?”  
“ _This_ is unnecessary – Ow, Zoe!”  
“Don’t be a dick, he’s nervous,” Zoe hisses.

Connor considers this, watching Jared dive under the bed for his left shoe.

“These?” Jared asks, holding it aloft.   
“Yeah!”  
“Are you gonna wear your lucky socks?”  
“Oh my God, Evan you’re _so embarrassing_.”  
“You should wear your denim jacket,” Connor says. “It makes you look less like a twelve year old.”  
“Thanks,” Jared says, blinking.   
“And don’t try and do something cool with your hair, it won’t work.”  
“Hey!”  
“He has a point,” Zoe says. “Jared, you look good. Promise.”  
“Cool,” Jared says. He swings his feet up onto the desk – there’s a flash of yellow and purple -   
“You are wearing your lucky socks!”  
“I hate you.”  
“Why do you have such intimate knowledge of Jared’s sock drawer, Evan?”  
“Don’t make it weird, Zo.”  
“Who has a whole drawer for socks? What’s it like in your WASPish world, Murphys, seriously?”  
“Our feet are always warm.”  
“I hate it when you make jokes,” Jared says. “It makes me feel so uncomfortable.”  
“Thanks,” Connor says.  
“Hey, seriously, how is everything with you guys? I feel like it’s all been about me and ‘Lana the past few weeks.”  
“It’s all good,” Zoe says. “Right, boys?”  
“Ugh.”  
“That means yes,” Evan says. “I think?”  
“Yeah.”  
“I’m about to go back to school. On Monday, I think, so.”  
“That must be weird.”  
“Yeah, I feel like I’m starting freshman year again,” Zoe laughs. She reaches up to tug her hair out of her ponytail. “It’s like I don’t know anyone.”   
“Bet you’ll make soloist in band this year, though,” Evan points out. Zoe rolls her eyes.  
“Yeah, now George has graduated. The whole thing is a misogynist conspiracy, I’m telling you.”  
“I wonder what the next scandal will be,” Jared says. “Oooh, Zoe, you’ve got to fill me in, I miss that high school drama.”  
“So college is as drama-free as we were promised, then?”  
“No,” Jared says. “Hang on, I’m going to get a yogurt.”

He swings back onto the desk chair with a multipack and a plastic spoon.

“Do you own proper cutlery?”  
“Yeah, but – washing up’s a drag.”  
“You’re a child.”  
“Yeah, buy me a bike for my birthday, bitch.”  
“Are you gonna be back for your birthday?” Evan asks.  
“Can we move past gendered slurs?”  
“What’s with her?” Jared demands, pointing the bowl of his spoon at the camera.   
“She’s doing the reading for a Feminisms class I wanted to sign up for,” Connor explains.  
“Wanted to?”  
“Yeah, well, Larry wouldn’t let me.”  
“Your dad is a _dick_.”  
“Grade A.”  
“Yeah, Evan, I’m coming back that Saturday, my mom wanted me to. But I’ve got lessons on Thursday and Friday, so. You guys are gonna have to wait for the weekend.”  
“How will we cope?”  
“Sarcasm does not become you,” Jared says.  
“ _Become you_ ,” Zoe repeats, incredulously, as Evan says,  
“Actually I think it does.”  
“Gross,” says Jared. He waggles his fingers at them. “Well, munchkins, I’ve got to go, _I’ve_ got a hot date. Bye.”  
“Bye,” they chorus, and then his connection blanks out.

Zoe stay online with Evan for a bit longer, exchanging paragraphs from their replies to some You Will Be Found letters – _does this work, do you think this makes sense_ , _what would you have said to this?_ Connor’s already sent all of his off; he’s trying to up the number he answers, mostly so Alana and Jared don’t have so much on their plates, but.

But some of them are really fucking depressing.

It’s not the sort of thing he can mention to Alana at the minute. He doesn’t really feel comfortable telling any of the others, either, because he knows what they would say: tell Alana, which is kind of the problem.

Maybe they’d offer to take some of the really bad ones for him, but he doesn’t want Zoe reading them – he’s got so much to make up for and he doesn’t think _hey, read these detailed descriptions of self-harm_ would be a great start. Evan’s been in that place as well, so he’s probably getting similar things – Connor doesn’t want to add to his plate and Jared’s – Jared’s Jared.

It’s fine. He’s dealt with it before and they’ve all agreed – if they’re helping people, it’s worth it. 

* * *

 

The day Zoe goes back to school, Connor gets a photo from her – stood outside her car with her eyes rolled up, captioned: _I’ve been waiting here for you for 10 minutes before I realised!!!!_

He’s stood in line at Whole Foods with Cynthia and a basket full of lentils and beans and weird shit for her newest fad diet. Connor’s about to show her the photo when someone taps him on the shoulder – it’s Julie Harris.

She makes big eyes at him, beckoning him into the aisle away from his mom. Cynthia’s not looking, she’s put her basket down to start unloading so Connor ducks after Julie.

“Shouldn’t you be in school?” he asks, when they’re out of earshot. Julie gives him a look, full and unexpectedly Zoe.  
“Sure,” she says. “ _You_ lecture _me_ about skipping. I have a 4.0 GPA – ”  
“Dude,” Connor says. “I really don’t care.”

Julie purses her lips. She doesn’t look anything like Brian.

“Look,” she says. “I’ve been wanting to say something, but our dads aren’t on good terms right now and I thought sending a message through our moms was a bit – ”  
“Weird?” Connor suggests. Another look.   
“I was going to say _elementary school_. Here – I’m sorry, about what happened at the barbeque. I’m sure it was my brother’s fault, he’s a dick.”

Connor stares at her. On the Harrises mantelpiece are a set of four or five photos – Julie and Brian, ages four to fourteen, in matching outfits. They play tennis together every Saturday in the summer, doubles. Connor knows because he and Zoe were dragged out with them for a few weeks a couple of years back. The point is – Julie and Brian are the kind of siblings Cynthia used to point to and say _why can’t you two be more like them._

“What?” he says.   
“I had a – Problem, with pills. Nothing as bad as you,” she adds, quickly. Connor rolls his eyes, shoves his hands into his back pockets.   
“Of course not.”  
“But – it was probably a problem. So. I get it. Well, no I don’t. What I’m trying to say is I don’t think Brian should have said what he said to you, about Evan. Or – my dad, for that matter. They’re wrong. And me and mom just – we’re on your side.” She considers it, eyebrow arched. “This time.”

It’s the strangest not-quite apology Connor’s ever had. He doesn’t know what to say, so he says –

“Did you really push Trina Delaware down the stairs?”

Julie’s mouth twitches. It could go either way – maybe she’s furious, maybe she thinks it’s funny, but then her expression smooths over.

“People at school like to talk,” she says. She shrugs. “I’d have thought you knew that better than anyone.”

And then she’s gone, satchel banging against her knees, rucking up the hem of her pink cardigan. Connor stares after her. He’s not entirely sure what happened. He’s not entirely sure how she managed to find him in a Whole Foods. 

* * *

 

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Yknow Julie Harris?

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Spawn of Satan sure

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Yh??

**From: Connor_Murphy**

She came up to me today to apologise for july 4th?

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

WTF HANG ON IM COMING IN

**From: Alana.Beck**

No fair I want to know!!!

What did she say?

**From: Evan_Hansen**

What did she say?

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Just that she thinks brians a dick and shes sorry for what happened?

And she said she had a problem with pills?

She had to clarify that it wasn’t as bad as my problem but that’s kind of weird right?

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

classic

**From: Alana.Beck**

So weird!

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Ugh does this mean we have to like her now?

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Just bc she apologised for her fam being the worst doesn’t mean she isn’t also the worst

Didn’t she try 2 kill trina delaware last year?

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Im not actually sure that happened

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Thats… kind of disappointing

**From: Alana.Beck**

How did your first day of school go Zo?

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Well its not my First Day Ever

But it was weird without you guys!

I had to sit next to people from band for lunch!

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

God forbid

**From: Evan_Hansen**

Aw that’s sad :(

I miss having lunch with you guys

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

We 3 should have lunch together this Saturday

**From: Connor_Murphy**

Wouldn’t we be having lunch together this Saturday anyway?

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Fuck off

Id rather spend time with Evvy

**From: Alana.Beck**

Are all the teachers still there?

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

“Evvy”????

**From: JazzBandJazZoe**

Yeah!!

I had mrs bee 4th period and she asked after all of you

Theres a new gym teacher – she’s really hot so all the guys were being asses

Mrs albys pregnant!

**From: Alana.Beck**

Aww!! Tell her I say congratulations!

Is that weird?

**From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman**

Yes

Definitely

V v weird 

* * *

 

On Wednesday, Connor goes round to Evan’s. It’s his one day off this week and they haven’t seen each other properly in what feels like ages.

When he opens the door, he’s in old jeans with Zoe’s Sharpie stars scribbled all over the knee and Connor’s hoodie, zipped up. Connor’s heart skips, the strange little double beat against his ribcage. Evan takes his hand to tug him over the threshold.

“Drink?”  
“No thanks.”  
“Food?”  
“I’m good.”

They go upstairs. Evan’s bedroom is always tidy, his covers drawn up over the pillow and his desk bare except for a pot of pens and his laptop. He’s got the bonsai tree on the corner of his bookshelf nearest the window, next to a little blue watering can Alana got him for his birthday. His blinds are shut, the room’s almost dark except for the strained sunlight making patterns on the carpet.

They drop onto the bed together and then Evan turns to kiss him, pushing him back against the headboard. He sits back a little while later and Connor’s fingers have made creases in his hair. Connor reaches up to tug it lightly.  
“Your hair’s long.”  
“I’m getting it cut next week,” Evan says. He rolls off Connor’s chest to tuck himself beneath Connor’s arm, reaching out to tangle their fingers together.

“Hey,” says Connor. He’s tired of waiting. “I love you.”

Evan turns his head. In the gloom, he’s smiling and his eyes are big and starry.

“I love you too,” he says, and kisses Connor gently. When they break apart, Evan burrows down into the blankets beneath Connor’s chin, slides his arms around Connor’s waist. “Hey, d’you wanna hear something cool?”  
“About trees?”  
“No,” Evan says. Connor can feel his laugh – the breath spans out across his collarbone. “About – When you said you loved me?”  
“Ten seconds ago, sure.”  
“Stop ruining the moment,” Evan says, but he’s smiling – Connor can feel that too, pressed into his neck. “You said you loved me and I believed you. Straight away. My head didn’t come up with – a thousand and two reasons you might be lying.”

Connor smiles at that. He presses a kiss to the top of Evan’s head. “I guess that’s pretty cool,” he says. They lie there in silence for a while, and then Evan says,  
“Hey.”  
“Hey.”  
“Would it be weird if – Never mind.”  
“What?”  
“No, never mind.”  
“Hansen.”

Evan groans, rolling over to bury his face in Connor’s arm. Connor waits. Eventually, Evan rolls back to stare up at the ceiling.

“Could you say it again?”

Connor grins, big enough that he’s pretty sure Evan can hear it in his voice.

“I love you.”

Evan’s ears go red. He sits up to turn and kiss Connor again, very soft.   
“Wow,” he says. Connor’s heart feels light and buoyant in his chest, like all his insides are bright and glowing. It’s nice – it’s just nice.

* * *

 

 On Friday, it’s been a year.

He wakes up late and he can hear his mom listening to the radio downstairs. There’s a moment before he realises, where it’s just a morning in September. Then he reaches over for his phone and he sees the messages from Alana, Zoe, Evan, Jared and he remembers.

He doesn’t remember, actually, but all day his gaze keeps sliding over to the nearest clock. The closer it gets to ten past five, which was when he decided to –

Cynthia hovers. It makes him feel more anxious – he can’t start doing anything because she pops in with a glass of water, to try to find something or to put something away. When Zoe gets back from school she throws herself onto the floor by his bed to grumble over geometry homework. It makes Connor feel weird, kind of spacey. It’s like a year ago but everything’s different.

It’s been a year.

He takes another shower before dinner, in the hopes it will wake him up. The bathroom cabinet isn’t locked and there’s a new curtain on the shower rail – giant pink flowers, Larry protested when Cynthia came home with it but Connor kind of likes the splash of colour.

Larry’s the only one who doesn’t seem nervous. That makes sense – he probably hasn’t realised what day it is because that would require things like empathy and understanding and a genuine human connection with his son – none of which are particularly Larryish traits.

Still, Connor’s a little – hurt isn’t the right word, nor’s disappointed but it’s something, ugly and small in his chest, the bruised part of him that never quite stops aching. Maybe it’s because of the stupid _Depression for Dummies_. Maybe it’s because his dad found him today, a year ago.

Larry soldiers on when even Cynthia’s answers get monosyllabic.   
“Have you heard back from the shop yet?” he asks.   
“No,” says Connor. Larry shrugs.  
“Well, it was a good start.”

The pause stretches, becomes silence. Zoe’s scraping her knife around her plate until it’s audible.

“Are you looking forward to starting college?”

Connor gives him a look, as flat as he can manage.   
“ _Sure_.”  
“Good,” says Larry. He sets his cutlery down across his plate. “It will be good for you. Meet new people. Get a fresh start.”  
“Sure,” Connor says, again. He’s not sure how fresh it’ll end up being. He’s got a pretty good idea of the type of people who will end up in his classes. He’s pretty sure he’ll have gotten high with most of them, at some point or another. Sam Taylor’s friends, and friends of Sam Taylor’s friends.

Still, he’ll have a routine again, which he and Dr West have agreed might help with the apathy. And he’ll have more to contribute to conversations with Alana than _I’m fine._ And he’ll see Evan more regularly. He thinks about Evan saying _I love you, too_ and warmth spreads out from the centre of his chest. One year ago today and he didn’t really know Evan Hansen. That, above all else, is kind of unbelievable. 

* * *

 

On Monday morning, they have orientation. Connor and Evan sit together, pressed shoulder to shoulder in the assembly hall while the Dean makes a speech. The microphone is faulty – the sound is too echo-y in the space and Connor zones out staring at the back of a girl’s head.

He got a text from Heidi this morning, wishing him luck. That was nice of her. Connor wonders how much she knows about him and Evan. He hasn’t told his mom much beyond the fact they’re in a relationship. Is that normal? He doesn’t know who to ask – Zoe’s obviously out and it seems kind of a trivial thing to bring up in his sessions with Dr West.

“Hey,” Evan whispers and the rest of it comes rushing back. “What’ve you got now?”

They’re standing. Evan’s hand has slid around his wrist. Connor pulls his phone out to check.  
“Uh, there’s a campus tour starting at ten. We could go to that?”  
“What time is your class?”  
“Not until two.”

They go on the tour. It’s led by a girl with massive round glasses on, who seems way more invested in their futures here than any of the people around her. They go past the science block, where most of Evan’s classes are, and round the scenic route, which turns out to be a yellowing field and a tiny pond.   
“There’s a gardening club that meets twice weekly,” the girl says and Evan’s fingers flutter round Connor’s pulse. Connor grins at him.

The best part is the library. The girl shows them how to use their ID cards to take books out and explains the penalty system. It’s two floors – they spend most of their time crowded around the terminals with outdated computers making unhappy noises behind them, but the windows are massive and still clean and the shelves go all the way to the ceiling.   
“That’s cool,” Evan whispers, behind him.   
“Yeah,” Connor agrees.

Evan’s class starts at one so after the tour they go and sit outside the cafeteria to eat lunch, except neither of them end up eating much. Evan’s twisting up the bottom of his t-shirt, which usually means he’s nervous. Connor takes his hand under the table and walks with him to find his first classroom.

They part at the door and Connor’s on his way back to try and find the library again when someone calls –

“Hey!”

He turns, out of habit, and the guy is waving at him. Connor tilts his head, questioningly, too far to shout and the guy jogs over.  
“Hey,” he says again. “Colin Murphy, right?”  
“Connor,” Connor corrects. The guy shakes his head.  
“Man, sorry. I’m shit at names, ask anyone. You’re one of Sam’s friends, yeah?”  
“Um,” says Connor. He can’t immediately place the guy but he looks the right sort – tall and stretched too thin, the shadows under his eyes and three day old stubble, greasy hair bundled beneath a hat. “We know each other.”  
“Yeah, yah,” says the guy. “Sorry, man, I’m Max.”

They shake hands, which is kind of a weird thing to do with someone you don’t remember getting high with.

“I’m just going to meet some friends,” Max says. “You wanna join?”  
“Um,” says Connor. He is seized, for a moment, with the old urge to do something that will _definitely_ disappoint his parents. It fades. “Nah, thanks but I’ve got a class.”  
“Sure,” says the guy. He holds his fist out for Connor to bump it. “See you round, yeah? Connor?”  
“Yep.”

He goes straight to the nearest bathroom and locks himself in a stall. He counts backwards from fifty, twice, gets distracted briefly thinking about how much easier it would have been if he’d started from a hundred. He remembers sometime last year sitting in a toilet stall having a panic attack with Evan holding his hand. He remembers Evan saying _I love you_. He drums his feet against the floor and flicks his lighter on and off until it’s time to go to class.

It’s all weird. It’s wrong, too much like school to be new, too different to be comfortable. After Max, Connor catches sight of a few more people Sam Taylor used to hang out with: two girls Connor ended up knowing pretty well and a group of guys. Connor’s pretty sure he lost his virginity to one of them which.

Larry and Cynthia make a point of staying up to date. That feels too much like old times as well: Zoe looking increasingly irritated as her stories get shunted to the side in favour of Connor’s monosyllabic answers.

Evan hits it off immediately with a girl in his Eco class. They start having lunch together on Mondays. It’s nice – it’s good, really, because Evan should have friends. Evan deserves friends and he’s only doing it because he thinks Connor would be relieved to not have to come in earlier than necessary. Connor knows, without a doubt, that if he asked Evan would invite him along too.

There’s a guy in Connor’s American Lit class – Dean, who wore a t-shirt with a print of Scooby Doo on it to the first lesson. They’re kind of friends. They have each other’s numbers and they text semi-regularly, never on weekends.

Mostly, it’s not great. 

* * *

 

The Friday before Hallowe’en, Connor skips.

It’s the first time he’s skipped all year, so it’s not terrible. Evan won’t know because Evan doesn’t have any classes on Friday. He works at Pottery Barn instead, and he and Lucy – the girl from Eco – are going out afterwards to get frozen yogurt. Cynthia leaves early to drop Zoe off at school; she’s got a parent-teacher conference this evening. It’s the first time Connor’s felt like the attention’s been off him.

He gets up late, to go to the toilet, and then he goes downstairs because it’s half twelve and he should probably eat. He’s not really hungry, but he does drink most of a litre of orange juice before he remembers that vitamin C is good for colds, not staving off depressive episodes.

He goes into the living room but everything on TV is shit and he can’t be bothered to sort through the DVDs so he just channel hops, catches ten minutes of an old _South Park_ episode, twenty minutes of a Jim Carey film, which reminds him of Jared except Jared hasn’t replied to Connor’s last message, which he sent a week ago.

He goes back to his room and tries to send an email to Mr Cowell. He said he wanted Connor to keep in touch, keep him updated about things but there’s nothing to say. He tries to start the American Lit essay but the words keep splitting on the page – there, then gone. He sends off a message to Dean, asking if he’s started. He answers some of the You Will Be Found emails that have been piling up in his inbox.

He goes back downstairs, leans out the front window for some fresh air. Cynthia still isn’t back. She’s probably running errands, or meeting friends. Mrs Harris, maybe, or Heidi, because apparently that’s something they do.

In the end, he sits down by the fridge. His hands are shaking but he manages to take his phone out and he scrolls through his contacts until he finds _Evan Hansen_ and then he just sits and stares at the number until his vision blurs and then the screen goes black.

* * *

 

  **To: Evan Hansen**

Hey im not feeling great today so I’m not coming in

Hope you have a good eco class

**From: Evan Hansen**

Oh no are you okay???

Is it illness or is it your head? <3

I can come round after class if you want?

**To: Evan Hansen**

No im fine dw

Its just a headache yeah

 

He skips on Monday too. He does manage to start his essay, so it’s not a completely wasted day but he spends most of it in front of the TV. At four he gets up to tidy as much as he can – empties the bins out, plumps the couch cushions, rearranges the ornaments on the mantelpiece, mostly for something to do.

They’ve just put Zoe’s last school photos up by the clock – she looks good, the new red streak in her hair and a big smile. Most of the photos are of Zoe – Zoe playing in the sandbox, Zoe in her leotard ready for a ballet lesson, Zoe and some friends at a funfair with blue tongues. There are a few of Connor but he’s usually with Zoe or a baby. At the back, there’s one, but he can’t be older than ten years old – short hair, gap-toothed, in his Little League uniform with mud on his shins and grass-stains on his knees, beaming up at the camera.

 Connor doesn’t recognise him. He doesn’t think he’s smiled like that since that photo was taken.

He thinks it’s horrible, it’s like a memorial to a kid who died. Connor before he became this terrible, mean and angry person, when the ugliest thing about him was the bruises on his ankles, not the scars on his arm or the awful darkness in his chest and he –

He’s dropped the frame before he realises he’s done it. It smashes against the floor, two giant cracks in the glass and the wooden back popped out so he pulls out the photo and his fingers get scratched up against the loose panel and he rips the photo in half and then quarters and then they’re in pieces too small to tear anymore and his hands are shaking anyway.

His eyes are burning. Crying isn’t any kind of release, it just makes his heart hurt more, wedged all wrong inside his chest.

He was ten and he didn’t know it was gonna turn out like this, eight years and a suicide attempt later. He didn’t think that that was the moment his parents were gonna be the most proud of him – when he’d managed to score a goal for a soccer team he doesn’t even remember the name of anymore.

There aren’t any photos of him after his twelfth birthday. Even the one of the whole family at his grandma’s birthday, when Connor was fifteen – he was high because he and Larry had had a fight over breakfast and so they’d left him out of it.

He was fifteen when his parents gave up on him and there’s a horrible hole somewhere inside of him and he doesn’t know how to fix it.

It’s dark outside when the headlights of Larry’s car turn into the driveway and Connor picks himself up off the floor and goes up to his room, changes into his pyjamas as quietly as possible and pretends to be asleep when Cynthia puts her head around the door.

She doesn’t say anything – he can hear her telling Larry he’s gone to bed as she heads downstairs. 

* * *

 

**From: Evan Hansen**

Hey do you want to meet up today?

 

He gets the message when he wakes up – three hours after it was sent. He types out a reply and then deletes it and then types out another one, and then he doesn’t send it because he’s too tired – He rolls over and hears the _thud_ as his phone hits the floor and then he goes to sleep again.

He wakes up for dinner, because Cynthia comes into his room and opens the blinds and it’s still light outside.   
“You okay?” she asks. He mumbles something into his pillow. “Dinner’s gonna be five minutes, and you need to eat, okay? Come down.”

He falls asleep again about three seconds after she’s left and then Larry storms upstairs to tell him not to be so rude and he waits in the hallway until Connor drags himself up and follows him down the stairs. He is hungry but the sight of them all sat round the table like some picture-perfect all-American postcard family ruins his appetite. He manages about three bites of the risotto Cynthia’s made before he starts feeling sick and then Cynthia says –

“It’s okay, Con, are you feeling ill? Should we go to the doctor?”

And Larry says –

“Stop coddling him. Connor, eat your food, you’re probably just hungry.”

Zoe’s watching him from across the table, eyes anxious. Connor’s more numb than angry though so he makes himself eat until Larry’s stopped frowning, and then he flattens the rest of it with the back of his knife so it looks like he’s eaten more than he has and then he says he’s got a headache and Cynthia lets him go back upstairs.

He has two more messages – one from Alana and another from Evan but his phone’s on three percent and he doesn’t really have the energy to talk to either of them. He doesn’t close his blinds, just shrugs off his hoodie and climbs back into bed, falls asleep almost immediately.

He wakes up at one the next morning because he’s gone and fucked his sleep schedule up. Moonlight is streaming in through the window; Cynthia’s been in, because his hoodie is folded neatly over his desk chair. His alarm clock is ticking steadily – it goes from one to half two and Connor still isn’t asleep so he gets up and gets dressed.

His phone’s dead. He doesn’t really want to wait to charge it, so he just plugs it in and leaves with his lighter and enough to buy another carton of cigarettes from whatever shop is open.

It’s ten past three by the time he’s found somewhere, and then he sits on the steps outside and smokes two. A police car screeches up a nearby road and the siren fades out into silence. One or two cars drive past, and a group of drunk girls tottering on high heels who don’t even notice him. It’s been ages since he was out this late, and he was probably high last time, because he doesn’t remember it being quite so silent, or dark, or cold. It’s oppressive, and he can’t see the stars because the streetlights are on. He doesn’t really know any constellations anyway.

Evan probably does.

He leans his head against the railing, stretches his legs out in front of him. He can kind of hear the radio in the shop behind him. He’s got a jagged scrape down his ring finger. He doesn’t remember it hurting yesterday, when he broke that stupid photo but it kind of hurts now.

He thinks he drove past here that night with Evan, when he embarrassed himself by crying for half an hour over how much of an incredible fuck-up he was.

He wants to rewrite this whole town with Evan Hansen, replace all the shitty memories – gutters he’s thrown up in, backstreets he walked round out of his mind, bus stops he sat in so he didn’t have to be at home – with the places Evan finds, woods and water and skies that go on forever.

Then he thinks maybe he wouldn’t want woods and water and sky if he hadn’t had the gutters and the backstreets and the graffitied bus stations and maybe he wants Evan Hansen because he doesn’t want them anymore and maybe (just maybe) Evan Hansen wants him because he likes those dark parts of him just as much as he likes all the bright things Connor wants to be now.

Except Connor wants to be a lot more than he thinks he’s capable of. This is probably the best he can manage – a few, unsteady months of _okay_ and then the crashing, dehabilitating numbness.

Evan Hansen deserves a lot more than that. 

* * *

 

When he gets home, his phone is at fifty six percent.

 

**From: Evan Hansen**

Hey! Don’t want to bother you if you’re busy and don’t worry if you are! Just wanted to check you were okay :)

**To: Evan Hansen**

I don’t want to see you anymore

I thought I could do this but I can’t

Sorry

Please don’t call me

 

He turns his phone off and goes back to bed.

 

 

“ _You broke up with him_!”  
“Go away.”  
“Connor, what the fuck? What’s happened? Are you okay?”  
“Zoe, fuck off.”  
“I don’t understand? He’s really _fucking_ upset, you _dick_ –”  
“I don’t care,” Connor says, into his pillow. He can’t see her. He doesn’t want to see her. He wants the sick feeling and the urge to start crying to go away.

She makes a sound of frustration and storms out. Her door slams from further down the hall. He thinks she’s probably gone to call Alana or something and they’ll hatch a plan to make it better except it won’t work.

He wants to go back to sleep except he’s properly awake now and he’s got Zoe’s voice in his head – _He’s really_ fucking _upset, you_ dick –

There’s a tiny, vicious part of him that thinks _good_. Mostly, he just kind of aches and he keeps thinking about Evan laughing and how happy that used to make him and now he doesn’t really feel anything.

Just – the first time Connor kissed him, Evan had smiled so wide and Connor had been so happy and –

Zoe comes back in a while later. Connor ended up crying himself back to sleep, so she wakes him up again which puts him in a bad mood and they have a fight and Cynthia doesn’t make him come down for dinner. 

* * *

 

He kind of loses track of the days, because he keeps his phone off. Cynthia makes another appointment with Dr West but Connor doesn’t really feel up to talking and most of the hour is spent in silence, and she looks disappointed when he gets up to leave.

His appetite kind of comes back, but at weird hours – three in the morning, quarter past four in the afternoon. He sleeps too much and his head feels all fuzzy but it’s a bit better than the low-level, constant humming anger since he and Larry had their last fight, two days ago, the last time Cynthia made him come down to eat as a family.

Then he stops sleeping and the irritation bursts and he’s just – sad. He stays in bed until the house is empty – Cynthia’s gone to the gym and Larry’s at work and he and Zoe aren’t talking again so he doesn’t know where she’s gone. School, probably. Then the gnawing hunger in his stomach is too much to ignore so he climbs out of bed and goes slowly down the stairs and makes himself a bowl of cereal and eats it standing up by the counter.

He leaves his bowl in the sink and goes back upstairs. Now he’s eaten, he kind of wants to take a shower – he gets as far as actually going into the bathroom before realising someone’s put a lock on the medicine cabinet again and then.

He shuts the bathroom door behind him and goes back to bed. He can feel his heart beating and he’s very aware of the sound of his own breath and the house is very big and very quiet. It had been very big and very quiet last time.

He feels sick.

The kids from the house opposite are out in the garden – he can hear them screaming but every time he tries to focus on it, his attention slips and he thinks about the pills. He took them from Evan last time, but there are some of his own in the house now and.

He feels sick.

He doesn’t want to die, he wants to stop thinking about that – He wants it to be over, he wants to be better.

He buries his face in his pillow until he’s too hot and he’s struggling for air and then he rolls over, onto his back, and stares at the ceiling and tries to focus on his breathing. His ears are ringing.

His phone is on the desk, still plugged into his charger, definitely fully charged by now.

It takes him a long time to get out of bed and cross the room and pick it up but then it’s vibrating on in his hand as he sinks back down onto the mattress.

He pulls it out. He hovers over Evan’s name, but he – He can’t – And Alana’s away, she couldn’t do anything and he doesn’t want to ruin everything for her as well and – Jared, but.

He’s just scrolling up and down his messages for something to do, something to force his mind off what he does not want to think about, when he sees the link.

He just stares at it for a moment. Then he finds his headphones underneath the pillow and plugs them in and clicks it.

The video buffers.

Evan’s standing at the front of the school hall with notecards and his old blue polo.

Connor watches the video four times, on a loop, and then he just replays Evan saying, “You will be found” with his eyes shut so he doesn’t have to see Evan’s face and his eyes are hot with tears and. He sits up, pulls the headphones out – Evan says _“you will_ ”.

His hands are shaking.

Evan goes straight to voicemail. Maybe he’s at work.

His heart is in his throat. He doesn’t know where Zoe is, or if she’d pick up. His mom’s at the gym so she won’t have her phone, but.

Larry’s routine has been the same since Connor was nine. Larry is the last person in the world Connor would call for help but – he’s also the last person Connor can call for help.

“Hello?”  
“Uh – ” Connor says. Larry says,  
“Connor?”  
“Yeah, I – Um, can you come home?”

He can hear himself from very far away.

“I’ve got a meeting at four.”  
“Right – um.”  
“Are you okay?”  
“Um,” says Connor. “No – I’m not, I don’t want to die.”  
“What have you done?” Larry’s voice, suddenly very sharp.  
“Nothing, I just – I was thinking – And I don’t. Please come home.”  
“I’m coming home.”

Connor can’t speak. His eyes hurt and his throat hurts and his vision’s blurry but Larry keeps talking into the mic. He has no idea what he’s saying until –

“It’s a twenty minute drive. I don’t have my earpiece. Set a timer, on your phone, okay? I will be home in twenty minutes. Stay there. I’m going to call your mother.”  
“Okay,” Connor says, but his voice doesn’t really come out properly.   
“Stay there, I’m coming,” says Larry, and then the dial tone.

A little while later, the front door bangs open downstairs again and then someone’s running up the stairs and then Larry’s toppled into his bedroom, still in his suit jacket and shoes. He comes straight over to the bed and sits down beside Connor, pulls him into a hug. Connor’s been taller than his dad for almost two years but he feels very small right now, sobbing into Larry’s chest and Larry doesn’t say anything about his tie or his shirt, just strokes Connor’s hair and makes soothing sounds like he used to when Connor was young and got earache. 

* * *

 

Connor falls asleep at some point because when he wakes up, Cynthia’s there as well, sitting opposite them in his desk chair, and someone’s pulled the blanket up over him. Larry’s voice sounds oddly croaky.  
“ – didn’t even call last time.”  
“I know,” Cynthia says. She looks exhausted.

Connor clears his throat because he doesn’t want to hear this. Cynthia’s kneeling down beside him immediately. She’s still in her gym clothes, her hair pulled back tight from her head.  
“Hey,” she says, softly. “You did so well, Con. Calling your dad, we’re so – ”  
“I’m really sorry,” Connor says.  
“You don’t have anything to apologise for,” Larry says. Cynthia hums in agreement. “We’re, uh. You ever feel like that, we want you to call us.”  
“How do you feel now?”  
“Tired.”  
“Okay Con. We’ll both be here.”

He wakes up in the middle of the night and they are, slumped over each other in chairs they must have brought up from the dining table. Connor rolls over and stares at the wall until morning. 

* * *

 

Zoe insists on staying home from school. She sits cross-legged on Connor’s bed and they play Uno with Cynthia. Larry joins them a bit later, but he moves them into the back garden because the fresh air will be good for Connor’s head. Connor says he’s mentally ill, not an elderly woman in the nineteenth century.

They don’t argue about it.

Cynthia makes him sit in the kitchen with her while she cooks. He helps her cut vegetables. While everything’s boiling, he sits at the table with his laptop and writes some more of his essay. The words come sluggishly slow, probably incomprehensible, but it helps, a little.

Zoe suggests drawing but the only thing he has to draw in is the sketchpad Evan got him. He does tiny stick people on the back of a post-it note for her. She puts it on her wall.

Jared and Alana both text him. He replies to Alana, but Jared’s is a string of emoticons and acronyms Connor’s too tired to translate. Jared’s probably on Evan’s side, anyway. Jared probably hates Connor because Connor has made Evan sad. Zoe doesn’t say it again, but she doesn’t have to.

When he can’t sleep, he flicks through the You Will Be Found page, some of the FAQs Alana has put up and the videos Connor did with Zoe and Jared. They helped people.

It feels good again.

He’s going through a comment board when someone starts knocking on the door. He waits a few minutes to see if they’ll go away but they don’t, they just continue knocking. He’s the only one in the house and he hasn’t showered since – yesterday, maybe, he doesn’t really remember, but –

It’s Evan.

He looks momentarily surprised when the door actually opens and Connor’s standing there. Then he sets his shoulders and says,  
“No.”  
“What?”  
“No, you don’t get to say that to me and just leave it like that. I know you didn’t mean it, I _know_ you and I know that you’re scared and that your head gets too loud sometimes, mine does too, but I said – I said before we started dating, before any of that, I said that you were my friend and I was gonna be here for you, no matter what. This is no matter what, okay? I don’t care if you want to break up with me – well, I do, but it won’t affect the fact that I am gonna be here. For you. Whenever you need me to be. We don’t get to choose everything we have to deal with but I am _choosing_ you, every time. Got it?”  
“I love you,” says Connor.

Evan stops. His mouth opens and closes. He frowns.

“I sat in the car for fifteen minutes gearing myself up for that speech,” he says. “And you just go back to _I love you_?”  
“I’m too tired for speeches.”  
“Okay,” says Evan. “I guess I love you works. Can I come in?”

He heats the water up again for two cups of tea and then he carries them upstairs, very careful not to trip, and puts one on the bedside table and the other on the desk and then he gets on the bed beside Connor and puts his arms around him and he smells like the blue shower gel Connor borrowed last time he stayed over.

Connor sleeps. 

* * *

 

“I can’t ask you to always be there when I have a breakdown.”  
“You’re not asking,” Evan says, patiently. “I’m telling you, that’s how it is.”  
“You’re bossy,” says Connor. Evan’s pushing his fingers gently through Connor’s hair. It’s very calming.   
“I think I was visited by the spirit of Alana in my dreams last night,” Evan says, seriously and Connor smiles.

“Do you mean that?” he asks, a little while later.  
“Hmmm?” Evan says, sleepily. His hand stilled about fifteen minutes ago.  
“That you’re gonna – keep on choosing me.”  
“Over and over again,” Evan says.

“I’m really fucked up,” Connor says, quietly. The sun is setting. Cynthia is downstairs – he can hear her clattering pots and pans. He doesn’t know why she hasn’t come up. Maybe Evan texted Zoe. He doesn’t know. “I’m always gonna be fucked up.”  
“You’re not fucked up,” Evan says. “You’re really smart. You make me laugh. You’ve read more books than Jared, and Jared read _The Lord of the Rings_ when he was six. You have good taste in music. You’re a good driver. You maybe have too many black clothes. You have a mental illness. That’s not you being fucked up. It’s not even your whole – thing. Just a part of it.”  
“A big part of it.”  
“Not really,” says Evan. “To me, there’s nothing more important than the fact I love you and you love me.”  
“I do,” Connor says. He can hear the smile in Evan’s voice.  
“I know,” he says.

It takes Connor a minute. “Did you just Han Solo me?”

Evan snickers. His hand drifts down Connor’s side and locks loosely around Connor’s fingers.

“You know, I started therapy two years before you did,” he says. “And I got meds two years before you did. And I never had to deal with your family, or the people at school in the same way you did.” He hums, like he’s contemplating this himself. “I’m not saying you’ve had it any worse than me,” he says, at last. “We’ve both gone through shit patches. But. You comparing yourself to me would be stupid even if I hadn’t had a two year head start on the whole getting help thing.”

Connor doesn’t say anything. He hadn’t thought about it like that before.

“You deserve a lot better than me,” he says, later, as the streetlights outside the window flicker on.  
“Now you’re just being stupid,” Evan says.   
“You do. You deserve – everything.”  
“I want you,” Evan says.

Connor considers this for a long time. He thinks he must accidentally doze off again, because when he becomes aware that he is actually okay with that, it’s dark outside and Evan’s asleep. There's a bowl on his bedside table that wasn't there before. Maybe Cynthia brought up food.

There's still the empty, aching feeling in his stomach but. 

Evan makes him feel – well, not better, but less – fragile, more like he will get better, eventually.

He tells Evan that when he wakes up, bleary-eyed. Evan blinks sleepily at him through the gloom.  
"No," he says.  
"No?"  
"No."

Connor waits. Evan's hair is shorter. It prickles against his fingers.

"You do that yourself. You get better yourself," he says. "I'm just here for you, always. I want to make you feel better, but you are the reason you are getting better."   
"That feels hard to believe sometimes."  
"That's okay," Evan says. He smiles. "I learnt that the hard way. I think maybe it's something you have to learn yourself. But it really, truly, absolutely is okay."  
"I watched the video. Your speech."  
"Oh?"  
"Yeah. I watched it a few times when I felt really bad. It helped."

Evan considers this, pushing his hand beneath his cheek. "I think that's the most important thing I've ever done," he says, at last. "If I helped you. Or anyone else. And anyone else."  
"The most important thing you've done  _yet_ ," Connor corrects, because the moment feels too heavy. Evan rolls his eyes so Connor reaches up to tap the point of his nose. 

They rearrange themselves so Evan's arms are around Connor's stomach, safe. 

"Tell me something cool about trees," he says.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I am now arequiems on Tumblr, come talk to me!  
> (Title bastardised from Richard Siken's poem 'Scheherazade')


End file.
